The Unknown Lovers of District 2
by BlackRoseOpal
Summary: We've all heard of Katniss and Peeta and their undying love for each other, overpowering all the other tributes. But there is another story hidden in the arena and behind the cameras. A doomed love from District 2, Cato and Clove.
1. We're nothing but crops

**Quick note: This story changes perspectives. At first it starts with Clove, then switches to Cato every other section. So I hope the divides help.**

* * *

Reaping day

That's all it is today. A day to reap two crops out of thousands as "tributes", like the twin from – what book was it?

The Bible -- that's it.

Cain was the twin who picked a portion of his crops as a tribute to his God, Jehovah. However, his heart was not in his offerings, compared to his brother's blood sacrifice from his flock.

I wonder if this game is based off their story, seeing as Cain did kill his brother, Able.

"Clove!"

I am fully awakened. My brother's voice draws me from the bed and to my wardrobe; a quick change into a deep red shirt, grey pants, and my mother's dainty gold belt.

"Clove, get up! Reaping starts in an hour," my brother cries from the kitchen. I run down to shut him up. Claudius lounges peacefully, and since he is nineteen he is safe from being reaped.

"Dad left-"

"-Early, Claud. I know," I finish for him. "He does every reaping."

It's not like I would forget that our father is the mayor. I practically inhale my breakfast. I cannot tell if my brother is worried that I might be picked his year. He has trained me very well, just in case, but he never says that he hopes I will never have to use my skills.

* * *

I arrive early to get a good seat in the Seventeen-year-olds seating area. This is my year. I've trained hard enough and I know I can win. I wait as the seats fill up around me. My two friends, Salto and Parmec, kick the two nerdy kids next to me out of their seats and join me.

"You gonna volunteer, Cato?" asks Salto. "I sure as hell won't. Did you see who District 1 picked? That Marvel kid is scary."

"Yea, but so is Cato," Parmec adds. I punch him in the shoulder, but I agree to myself.

I'm bigger than both Salto, and Parmec. I've broken many students' bones.

"Ladies and Gentlemen!"

Our host, Orvo Dazzle, opens up the reaping and the mayor stands up to read about the Dark Days and the Treaty of Treason and all that boring crap. The two victors, male and female, sit silently. I forget the girls name; however the man is my uncle Curry. Our family does not talk to him much anymore.

"Happy Hunger Games! May the best tribute win!" Orvo says, his voice sounding annoyingly feminine, and the Capitol accent doesn't help either.

"Ladies first!"

Orvo dunks his black nailed fingers into a large glass bowl, and pulls out a name with no hesitation.

"Clover Ewood!"

I look over and see the mayor's daughter step up from the girl's seventeen section. She looks completely drained of color and someone annoyed. Once she steps onto the stage she yanks Orvo's microphone off of this shirt collar and says rather loudly, "My name is Clove, dumbass."

Now I'm not surprised that no one volunteered for her. She was never the one to make peppy, girly small talk at school with the sweet girls.

Orvo looks as if he is about to cry but readjusts his mic and goes for the boys. I don't realize whose name is pulled because I lunge forward to volunteer anyway. Salto and Parmec are wooping and cheering me on, slapping me in the back and pushing me into the aisle to walk up to the stage. Clove gives me a light handshake and turns away, not even acknowledging my existence. Well she would wouldn't she? The daughter of one of the wealthiest men in District 2; not even the doctors make as much money as him. Though I guess they wouldn't would they? Seeing as though there is a large abundance of them in our little medical district: Vets, dentist, surgeons. Whatever you need, we are all here. That's probably why a lot of District 2's have won the Games. We are already fit, healthy, and had all of our vaccinations for outside threats to the body.

However, threats to the body aren't the only thing you have to look out for.

We sit in the justice building. Only Clove's father visits both of us. Protocol I guess. I do not even get to see my baby sister Kimi. I'm going to miss that kid for a while. But I'll see her again soon, just as soon as I win. We get into a car and I look over at Clove.

She is so beautiful; she has such an ice-queen vibe about her. A blood-thirsty ice-queen. And I have to melt her.

"So Clove," I say. "Seeing as though we'll be together for a few weeks, we might as well get to know each other more."

_ Icy _shifts only her eyes to look at me.

"So it is Cato is it?" she says dully. I nod and she turns back to the window. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her reflection in the mirror. A single tear trickles down her cheek. She will be easy to kill.

We watch the other reapings in the television that is in the car. The tall, dark boy from 11 looks like he could be a good ally if he doesn't become all protective about his female counterpart, a puny 12 year-old. She looks as if she could run quickly, but I can throw spears far so she should be easy.

"Anybody jump out at you, Clove?"

She shrugs and continues to stare out the window.

"Hey Clove," I say, trying to sound sensitive, someone she could confide in, just to learn her weak points. She locks her gaze with mine, and says nothing for a while.

"Look, Cato," she says, coldly. "You're probably thinking I'm being heartless. And in a way you are right. I don't want any friends. I've lost enough people to know how bad it hurts. I'm not trying to impress anyone back home, and I don't need the money. I just don't want to die a slow death."

I could help with that. But at the moment, I don't know what to say in response at first. How can I respond to something like that?

"Well," I start, "if you don't want to be friends, then how about allies?"

This catches her off guard. She opens her mouth to protest, then simply nods and looks away.

_ Again._

"Maybe."

* * *

Author's Note: Yes I know Clove's part was small, but I wanted to get into Cato's head a bit more. Make Clove a bit more of a hard character to break. _Please please please_ **review.**


	2. Rise and shine, my butt

**There's a bit of language in this one so, if you're sheltered...ya.**

* * *

We arrive at the train station, and I am taken to my very own car, just next door to Cato's

Joy.

He is big, strong, but cocky. He should be not too much of a challenge to kill.

In District 2, we are not a poor district, compared to what I've heard about other districts, like 8, or 12. But these rooms are so luxurious, they make the Justice building look like a dump. So many buttons; some for food, to adjust the appearance of the room, and more.

I let my curiosity take over and make my way to the closet. When I open the door I see a screen, like a television, but with buttons in it, with selections of different types of clothing. I take one look at the screen, and then down at what I'm wearing and fall to the ground and cry. I cry because I do not want to die. Slowly at least. I do not cry for long because there is a knock at my door. A swift glance at the shades tell me I fell asleep on the floor.

"Rise and shine!" Orvo chirps from behind the door. "Time to get ready!"

I sorely rise and push the first buttons I see which give me a sky blue dress with grey leggings and white boots. I put my belt over the shirt so it hangs casually. I follow Orvo, whose

body hugging clothes that look like they were made for a girl. Cato soon joins us. Unlike me, he seems to have gotten plenty of sleep.

"Good morning, Clove," he says, oh-so-cheerily. I respond with an equally corny smile then stare in front of me till breakfast.

We meet our mentors. Apparently the guy is Cato's uncle. Fantastic. We have a family reunion in the house. The female mentor, Prica, looks very young. But then I remember which year she was from. Just a few years ago on the 72nd Games, she won by rigging snares and traps, and then slit the unlucky saps' throats with a tiny dagger she found in the Cornicopia, the only weapon she had, other than what she found in her victims' bags.

She was a true killer.

"So now that you know each other," says Orvo, "I'll leave you two to discuss your interview and training strategies.

He leaves, all is silent, and I might as well break the ice.

"I can throw knives, and I am good with snares."

Prica's face lights up.

"A fellow trapper," she says. "Very good."

"I can throw a spear," says Cato, obviously mocking me. "And I'm a pro with a sword."

Boys. They know nothing of psychological warfare, only bashing people's heads in. Curry glares at me when I scoff.

"Something you would like to add, Clove?" he says, his disposition like a statue. I shake my head and look away.

"So," Prica interludes, "do you two want to be coached together or separately?"

"Together." Cato does not even miss a beat in answering. All eyes are on me surprisingly and I just nod. I mean, hey we're allies, right? I might as well learn everything about him while we can. Then once we're in the arena I'll know how to face him later.

We eat an elaborate lunch with at least four courses (and it was barely noon). Not much was said around the table, except for some awkward questions about Cato's mother before she died; must have been his sister. I stab a piece of zucchini and grimace to myself, not at the vegetable, but the fact that Cato and I actually have something in common.

Neither of us have our mother anymore.

However, when Curry begins asking things about his father before he died, I feel bad for thinking lowly of him. I suppose it is a habit coming from such a well provided family. Even if it is a broken family.

"Um, Cato?" Maybe I shouldn't ask this. "Who were you living with after your parents passed away?

"His ex wife," he says, pointing to Curry with his spoon as if I should know this. "Yup, just me, Kimenes, and Aunt Brin."

"Kimenes?"

"My baby sister. We just call her Kimi. She was born half a year ago. That's how mom went. And then the chief introduced our household to a wonderful thing called whiskey." He raises his glass of sparkling cider as if it he was toasting with Champaign and takes a sip before continuing. "Poor bastard had no alcohol tolerance."

"That's a terrible thing to say," I interrupt. He laughs and says, "What? One shot sent him…"

"I meant what you called him," I grumble, chewing hard on a roll I snatched up. "That's a nasty word and…"

"Oh, my apologies, princess," he says, tauntingly. "I didn't realize in your part of the District people had other ways of describing others. Was that remark you made at the reaping..." He gasped sarcastically. "You're first swear?"

"Shut up," I mumble. He chuckles and pushes out from the table.

"And I suppose in your nice, spotless mansion there aren't words like bitch, whore, or even skank."

"Shut up," I snap a bit louder.

"In the land of perfection. I bet you never even _needed _to swear a day in your life, having everything handed to you on a silver platter. Just be prim and proper and 'daddy will get you whatever you want'. So what does mother think about this spoiling of their only child? Does she approve, or does she waste her life away too like I've heard?"

"_SHUT UP!_" I scream, jumping to my feet. "Just shut the hell up! You have no idea what goes on in my home! That 'wasted mother' you keep going on about? That's my step-mom! _My _mother was killed in a mugging, trying to deliver food to _your _slum of a town. Who knows? We may have even been donating to your family!"

And I storm out, leaving the atmosphere less cheery than a graveyard.

* * *

"Damnit," I mumble, sitting back down and realizing I went too far.

No duh.

Orvo and the mentors just stare; but as usual, Orvo looks as if he's about to cry.

"Man up, will ya?" I snap at him, throwing my napkin down and stomping to my room. Stomping in this case does nothing to make me feel better. In fact, it makes me angrier, because stomping on the velvet carpet that lines every train car makes no noise what so ever. I don't even hear the footsteps behind me when Prica comes up and grabs me by the pressure point in my shoulder and drags me into my room. For someone her size and age, she sure is strong.

"Listen here, kiddo," she says, shaking her fist at me. "I may not be much older than you but I have seen things you could never imagine. And let me tell you, your situation back home is the _least _of your problems."

"Then tell Clove that," I snap, stepping forward. "Our little princess still seems to be in la la land and doesn't realize what we are here for."

"She didn't volunteer. She didn't want this," she says, coldly. "Not everyone wants to be a part of these Games. I didn't. I wish I could take back a lot of things I did in that arena, but what I did was purely for survival."

"Looked like you were enjoying yourself out there to me," I scoff.

"You lose yourself in those Games," she whispers loudly. "The arena messes with you. It takes most of your strength just to maintain your sanity."

I laugh. I can maintain my sanity. I want this. I want to win. For Kimi; for us.

"Laugh all you want," Prica says. "Just don't forget to apologize profusely to your fellow tribute. She may just save your life in the arena."

Or vice versa. Prica leaves and I sit on my bed. I really should apologize. I just feel angry around those proper noble rich folks who think they're better than me. I lay back and stare at the ceiling, trying to think of the words to say I'm sorry…other than "I'm sorry."

* * *

Author's note: Yea I wanted a good fight between them to make things more difficult :-P When I wrote this I imagined Cato as Bender from the Breakfast club, taunting Claire. (Ha funny, since they end up together at the end. So what will happen next? _Please Please Please_ **review** and tell me what you think.


	3. Two apologies in one day

At the end of the day, everyone goes to bed. Except for Clove. She can't seem to get to sleep lately. And I'm not the least bit surprised, I mean, for someone who was picked and didn't choose to take this plunge. It can be terrifying.

I find her in the lounge car connected to the dining car, where there is a bar with a tender behind it twenty-four seven. Of course they are instructed not to give us alcoholic beverages. Clove is dipping a fried slice of what looks like a potato into a glass of ice cream. I wonder how that could taste good at all.

"Good evening," I say. Her muscles tense up at the sound of my voice and she clenches her jaw, but does not look my way. I slide into the booth seat across from her.

"What do you want, Cato?" she says flatly. "Come to bash my life some more? I already told you I don't want any friends, and now I'm _really _sure I don't."

"But you agreed to be allies." She scowls. "So we might as well… look can I say something before anything else is said?"

She thinks for a moment, and then nods her head.

"I'm so sorry," I say. "I was suck a fu…freaking jerk to you and I barely know anything about you and that was something I wouldn't expect you to forgive me for, but I would gladly take forgiveness. I just want you to know I'm not going to judge you anymore. I shouldn't have judged you in the first place…And I'm incredibly sorry about what I said about your mother. I had no idea."

For a moment she is still as a statue. Then the only movement I see is a single tear trickling down her cheek. She sniffs and wipes it away.

"Thank you," she said quietly. "I forgive you. And I'm sorry for shouting back at you. I know your life must be tough."

"Well," I start, "sometimes it can be…an inconvenience, but honestly, I don't mind it. When I come home to Kimi's chubby face, all covered in spit bubbles…" I laugh because that probably sounded stupid. "…it's all worth it. She's my only real family. Taking care of her just lets me know that if I wanted to start a family, I would know what to do."

I see a faint smile on Clove's lips and she says, still looking down, "I bet she is cute."

By now I have pulled the necklace around my neck and open the locket that hangs on the change.

"This is the one item I took from home," I say, handing it to her. "Open it."

She does, and gives one of those girly "Awwwwww" noises. Kimi's picture is framed by the rectangle locket back. She hands it back to me and says, "I wonder what it's like to have siblings."

"It's work," I say jokingly. I'm sure she meant when they can fend for themselves and they're not practically your responsibility.

"Well, you know that much, and the stereotypical stuff about me," I say. "All I _really_ know about you is that you are the mayor's daughter."

Clove glares at me. Perhaps that was not the best choice of words. It suddenly occurs to me that being the mayor's daughter may be the only title she has gone by other than "Clove".

"Yes, the mayors _daughter_," she snaps. "But don't ever call me that."

Yep, I was right.

"Alright, alright," I defend myself. She turns back to her food and dips another potato into the ice cream. She _is_ an ice queen, purely by how stolid she can become in a matter of seconds.

"So where did you originally come from?" she asks. "Been at the Border all this time?"

"No," I say, sarcastically. "See when my mother and father got married…"

"Shut up."

"You asked."

Next is awkward silence. I look up to see her staring out the window, watching the train speed by everything; nothing is visible for more than a fraction of a split second. Everything but the moon; its light makes her dark blonde hair look blue. Her eyes, why have I never noticed them before?

They are purple.

More of a deep violet. I guess I was so busy with the Games and making myself look good, and well, trying to find Clove's weak points, I never really took the time to see her with no strings attached. I involuntarily let out a soft, "Woah," at her beauty.

I'm so pathetic.

There is no way she got her looks from her father.

Clove snaps her head towards me and I softly mutter, "Sorry…" feeling my face heat up.

* * *

Cato breathes out, "Woah."

Is it towards me?

"Sorry," he says. When I ask what for he is silent for a while.

"You…are very beautiful." This brings a blush to my cheeks, but I stare blankly at him as he continued, "I mean…erm… I'm sorry. That just came out. I hope I didn't…"

"Offend me?" I finish for him. "Oh please, Cato. Something like that isn't normally taken as an insult." I look down again. "Nobody has ever referred to me as beautiful before. My own father hates to look at me because I resemble my mother too much, and that puts him in an all time low. My classmates all treat me like I'm a freak because my eyes aren't a common color. The doctors don't know why they turned that color. They just did…"

I jump when Cato touches my clenched fist, which now holds a crushed, mashed excuse for a fry. I wipe my hand off and calm myself. Now, I wish I had not said so much because now I feel vulnerable. I lay my head down on the table and feel Cato slip in next to me.

"What are you doing?" I ask. He takes a fry and dips it into the… milk shake or something like that. I love his expression when he eats it and asks, "What gave you the idea to combine these for a snack?"

I laugh and explain that I saw Orvo do it while flirting with the bartender.

"Wait." Cato blinks. "He was _flirting_ with the bartender?"

"Yes." I start to smile. I know what's coming.

"The bartender is a man."

"I know."

He shivers, disgusted and I double over laughing. Cato scowls at me and steals my milk shake.

"Give that back!" I demand. He takes a sip, then immediately orders one for himself. I laugh again.

"And here I was thinking you were perpetually cold and heartless," he says, sarcasm in his eyes. I punch him in the shoulder, then decide to play along.

"How else could I maintain my _icy_ status?" I lift my face and put on a stone cold expression. For some reason, Cato's face softens as he says, "Yea." He looks down. "Clove, the Ice Queen of the Hunger Games."

I try to make out the emotion in his dark blue eyes. Pain? Guilt?

"Hey," I say quietly. "What's wrong?"

He looks back at me with what I interpret as a _guilty_ expression and says, "I think I just made a friend…"

Only in the Games could a sentence such as that hold so much pain. He rises from the booth and says, "I'm sorry I broke our deal. Goodnight."

And he leaves just as the bartender puts set the shake down at the table.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Sorry for the delay, even though that's probably how long normally. I took things down a note in this one. I don't know why I'm making Cato fall for Clove first. Maybe to make her appear truly like ice. And he has to melt her :-P _Please Please Please_ **review** and tell me what you think.


	4. Weird, yet talented

I am a complete idiot.

There is no way I could possibly be falling for _Clove. _She's only my ally, practically my enemy!

I reach my room and punch the nearest wall, which automatically seals back up. Frustrated even more, I punch the wall again. The door opens, and an Avox appears with a large punching bag.

"Get out of here!" I snap. He nods and leaves the bag at the door.

A table suddenly pops out of the floor, holding little packets containing items I recognize immediately. Disinfectant wipes, ointment, and an assortment of bandages, and its only then I realize my knuckles are profusely bleeding.

I have to control my temper.

I blink.

And my mouth.

The room suddenly feels like a prison more than anything, but then I remind myself that _I_ volunteered for the Games; I came into this to win. But that was before Clove…

No! Don't think like that Cato! Don't let a pair of pretty eyes take you out of the game. You are here to kill, to win! You're supposed to learn the girl's _weaknesses_ not her _life story!_

I curse—multiple times, and kick off my pants, rip off my shirt, and crawl into bed which I know is useless, because I'm not the least bit tired. The pitch black room makes me feel blind. It's ironic, since my eyesight is great, but somehow I have failed to see _all _the consequences of volunteering for the Games. How can I possibly think I wouldn't get to know at least _one _tribute, much less my fellow district tribute?

The morning comes slowly and we apparently have reached the Capitol. Today is the day we meet our stylists and the team. Clove emerges from her room, at first looking well rested until I see she is still in her nightgown and appears to be half-dead with circles under her eyes, and serious bed head. Somehow, she looks younger when her hair doesn't fall into the interesting style that I have only seen a few girls wear. What do they call them? Layers? Apparently it was a huge thing back when Panem was called North America.

"Sleep well?" I say sarcastically, but then I feel bad because I am probably the cause of her lack of sleep.

"Drop for—the dead—in," she mumbles, and then I know she _really_ did not rest at all. I make a bold move and place my hand on her back and guide her to the breakfast room. She must be really tired because she doesn't seem to notice.

"I trust you both slept well," says Orvo in his annoying accent, with a hint of a lisp. "Meet your styling team."

There is a small lady with dark skin—no dark sounds too light because her skin is dyed literally black, which makes her silver, spiky hair stand out even more. There is also a tall man with purple hair, skin, lips, and eyes, though it doesn't look attractive at all. The only one with purple eyes that can pull it off is Clove and— shut up Cato, you're doing it again.

Our main stylist is medium sized with long aqua hair and peach colored skin. She appears to be styling some sort of sea creature as a jacket. I suspect a former District 4 stylist.

"Now this is smashing," she says, approaching us. "I do believe this district has given me something to work with."

She lifts up my arm and feels my muscles, which is indeed flattering, but also equally creepy.

"I'm going to have fun with you." She smiles, her teeth freakishly white.

* * *

Cato looks a bit freaked out by our stylist's instant curiosity. Unfortunately, I get the other two.

"Your skin is so fair," says the silver haired woman, who stands at about four feet. The purple—everything man however, towers over me by at least two feet.

"My my, look at your eyes," he says. He then sticks his finger in his eye and pulls out an eye contact. I've seen them before in my district; they are usually prescribed for those with seeing problems, but I've never seen them colored, because when he takes his off, it reveals a very grey eye.

"Show me yours," he says "I want to compare them."

"I don't…" How do I respond to that? "I don't have any contacts. This is my natural eye color."

He suddenly grows despondent and frowns.

"Well, aren't we special," he snaps, and walks over to the food table. The woman leans in and pats my shoulder as she says, "Carnel is always jealous. Don't take it personally. I'm Flaga, and mermaid-girl over there is Ursula. She used to be Finnick Odair's stylist and she's been that way ever since. She takes pride in her work, that's for sure. Anyway, Ursula will be Cato's stylist and Carnel and I will work together on you."

I raise an eyebrow and ask why I get two.

"Carnel and I work as a team," she says. "I design the outfits, and Carnel brings it to life. We are the only duo in the entire Games because the Game makers were so impressed with Our previous tributes, even if they did not win." Her voice dropped for a moment.

I am so weirded out right now. These—beings look so strange, they hardly seem human. And Carnel; he just seems like he has too much—what was it? We learned it in school…

Estrogen! That's it. Carnel seems like he has an extra dose of estrogen. Same goes for Orvo while I'm at it.

"Alrighty then!" says Ursula. "This year we're going to kick it up a bit and go a bit outside of the limits."

I pray so hard that we don't end up naked like one of those years where that was the fate of the poor District 12 pair. Completely bare with coal dust layered on every inch of their body. The only other thing they had on was miner hats.

"Since we're dealing with the medical field, why don't we focus on what medicine can bring."

"Health?" says Cato. Ursula shakes her head and I say, "Life."

"Correct, but in some circumstances," she continues, "What else does it bring?"

This keeps me guessing. What else could medicine bring?"

"Death." I turn to se Cato's face stone cold expression.

"C-correct," she stammers. "Life, and sometimes death. So, one of you is going to represent life, and the other death."

"How?" asks Cato.

"Well we've already got 'death' decided," says Carnel in between bites of his food. "Either of you heard of the Grim Reaper?"

We both nod.

"That's you." He points his fork at Cato. "We have yet to figure yours, Clove."

As if death isn't represented enough in these Games. I glare at Purple who continues to stuff himself. Clove seems confused.

"Why do you not have me yet?" she demands. "I thought you were supposed to know this beforehand!"

Flaga steps forward and says, "Life is hard to determine, Clove. We've tried many ideas but none of them feel right, or meet the qualifications of the Games. We're going to look into some ancient illustrations of life."

Clove nods, finally looking aware and goes over to the food table proceeded by me and the other two stylists.

"So your uncle is your male mentor? That could get you some sponsors," says Ursula. She reminds me of a model for some Capitol hair-dye

Later, we are taken into the design room, and I try on my outfit while Flaga and Clove look for her costume inspiration.

"Stand up straight," says one of Ursula's assistants, Goral. I straighten my back so she and Ursula can strap the ripped up bat-like wings to my shoulder blades. They hand me my reaper which looks more like a medical instrument, which makes sense. The sleeves are cut off at my shoulders and they oiled my arms to show off my muscles and the pants are very baggy and collect tightly at my ankles.

"Very sexy," says Orvo, entering the room. "I just felt a chill looking at you."

I must be blushing through my makeup because Clove is trying very hard not to laugh and then suddenly lets out a loud snort which gets the whole room cracking up.

* * *

I hate my laugh. I sound like a pig from District 10.

"Don't laugh," I say quietly. They apologize, still smiling, and Flaga and I return to our research. I suddenly remember something we could use.

"An angel!" I cry out, probably a bit too loudly. Carnel is the only one who seems to know what I mean.

"What?" Ursula cocks her head a bit. "What is an angel?"

"Flaga, do we have a Bible anywhere?"

The tiny woman fishes through all of our books, throwing the Koran, the book of Morman, and a monkey book by some guy named Darwin. Finally, she pulls out a huge leather bound King James Version, conveniently complete with pictures. I flip through the large pages and recite a verse regarding an angel known as the seraphim.

"Three sets of wings?" says Carnel, obviously rusty on the Biblical scripture. I don't blame him though. Barely anyone has a copy anymore. I am one of the few who do back home. It has to be my favorite book.

"Why three?" asks Flaga, peering over my shoulder looking for something in the pages.

"One pair that covers their face, a pair that cover their legs and feet, and the last pair for flying," I explain, beaming because this is the first time I can share my knowledge of this book and not receive looks of confusion or distaste. Everyone begins to understand. Flaga exclaims, "Oh!" and lunges for her sketch book. She begins to draw, keeping the paper facing only her, so no one can see it.

"She gets like this," Ursula says, rolling her eyes, "when she gets a 'brilliant idea'."

Flaga mumbles a few things to herself; her eyes scan the paper wildly as she continues to draw. It is awkwardly quite as we all watch her in her "zone". About ten minutes pass by and she swipes her signature on the drawing and then flips it over to show us. Cato and I gasp in awe, but obviously everyone else has seen this kind of stuff before.

The wings are long and feathery, but slender and feminine, the ones that look like they are meant for flying at least. The set of "wings" that should cover my legs are actually part of a long feathery skirt to a dress. At the top of my head is suspended a nurse hat that is redesigned to look like a halo. The third pair of wings, which _should_ cover my face, appears to be unfolding, revealing in the model's arms, a baby.

"I have to say, Flaga," says Carnel. "You have outdone yourself this time. Babies? A sure sign of life. And where are babies born? Well—mostly hospitals. Medical? It's perfect!"

Flaga blushes. I guess she is always shy about her work. She looks down and says, "I think we should have a real baby to add to the effect of life. As long as it doesn't cry so much."

Orvo goes, "Hmmm," for a moment, and then escapes the room, mumbling something about a quick call. Cato glances at me and I look to the ground. I don't really want to talk to him right now.

I'm not quite ready after last night.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I am very proud of my idea with "thinking outside the limits" like Ursula said. Hey I can make it work! _Please please please_ **review** and tell me what you think!

**_PS!_** I now have a drawing of what Clove's costume will look like. Go here to see it: .com/art/Clove-s-Costume-Life-161038595


	5. I'm going in too deep

Carnel and Flaga are huddled over the sketch of my costume while Ursula helps Cato out of his outfit and they all dismiss me before they remove any revealing clothing. I look for the private training room. This will probably be where I spend most of my time. Even though the training sections where all the tributes go to are much better supplied, I like my alone time. Maybe I feel that way, being an only child or something, but it is the only time I have to think to myself.

I find the room. The walls are lined with weapons, targets, punching bags, camouflage pain, you name it, and it is there. Maybe I was wrong about the public training room being better stocked. I pick up a morning star and play with the spiked ball at the end of the chain. It is definitely too bulky for me, and I place it back. The throwing knives are in the corner of the room, lining the wall all the way to the ceiling with assorted blades, some dainty and curvy, and some thick and jagged. I am in heaven. Knives are my weapon; small, easy to carry, and in most cases, fatal if thrown right.

"Let's see," I mumble to myself, looking for some sort of ladder. I find one and start to climb to the top, since that is where the daintiest knives are. Once I'm up there, I groan because I put the ladder in just the wrong spot to reach any of them. Well I'm light. I can just swing to the other side of the ladder and hang there, right?

Wrong.

When I swing around, the ladder rattles. After a short, but loud, squeal, I hold myself, encircling my legs around one of the rungs. If there is one thing I do not like, it is not having something under my feet. Heights are fine as long _as I'm standing on something!_

"Oh, boy," I breathe. "Ok, ok. This is easy. Just don't look down. Remember what Claude said. It's sticking the landing, or not having to stick the landing…"

I ramble to myself when I get scared. I tear my eyes away from the ladder and to the wall. There's a set of throwing knives that I have to get. I slowly pry my left hand from the ladder and reach over to the belt holding the set together. My finger catches the buckle and I remove it from the wall very slowly. Trying to swing to the other side of the ladder, the top rattles again and then edges away from the wall.

"No," I say, in panic. "No no no. Oh crap. NO!"

I try to lean forward to balance the ladder back onto the wall, but all I do is cause it to skid across the wall, knocking over weapons, making an awful metallic screech, I can barely hear it over my scream though. I think, _stick the landing_, and try to leap from the ladder when I think I have a clear shot at the ground, though I haven't seen the ground since I had begun to climb. And on top of that, my foot catches on a rung and I am flipped over, diving headfirst into the floor. Before I can feel my skull crack open, I hit something less hard, and feel arms encircle my waist, softening my blow to the floor as my savior topples over from my impact. My fingers dig into the muscular arms, my nose just barely touching the ground. I'm shaking violently and I'm hyper ventilating. I slowly bring my head up to see who lies underneath me, arms still protectively around my waist. Cato stares in shock up at me, his big blue eyes even bigger as they are inches away from mine. My hair hangs down, a few strands sticking to his forehead, which just begins to break out in a sweat.

"You're hurting me, Clove." I take my fingers out of his flesh and prop myself up, still too shaken up to get up. "Are you ok?" he asks. I try to recover my voice and babble out a tight, "I-I think so."

For some reason, I can't take my eyes off of him. I move my hair out of both of our faces and behind my ear, the shadow disappearing from Cato's face. There is a strange moment where we just stare at each other. I'm not even sure I blink. I know he doesn't.

* * *

Clove looks terrified; the more time we spend locked in each other's eyes, the more awkward it gets, but the less scared she seems. Her pupils grow back to normal size and her shaking decreases to a small tremble. I start to sit up and she gets up on her knees. I try to say something then wince as I feel a sharp pain in my leg. Clove looks down and starts to freak out. One of the knives she was trying to get has stuck into my leg, blood trickling down to the floor. She scrambles off of me and looks around for a first aid kit, which pops out of the ground like the one in my room did.

"I'm sorry," she says quickly. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!"

"Clove, calm down. I'm fine."

She pulls the knife out carefully and begins treating me, debating whether to sew the wound up or not.

"Crap," she groans. "This better heal up before the Games start."

She starts to ramble on about random things and it is actually kind of amusing watching her scramble over the medical supplies, trying to find specific tools, or bandages. After I am all wrapped up, she sits back and puts her head in her hands, sighing deeply. Is she about to cry?

"Clove," I whisper. "Are you ok?"

I place my hand on her two small ones and pull them down to see her face.

"I'm sorry," she says, "I'm sorry for everything. I don't belong in these games. I can throw knives and make traps and…oh god." She begins to break down and cry. "This is too much. I'm scared." Her voice lowers to a whisper. "I want to go home."

She pulls her knees up to her chest and sobs into her knees. I've never seen her like this before. She always seemed so refined and strong. Maybe she was acting the whole time or something. It is a drastic change from the ice queen I met at the reaping, to the puddle of tears I see before me. I hesitate, but slowly move over to her side, and put an arm around her. Almost immediately, she leans over into my chest and I put my other arm around her. I feel so out of myself doing this.

I'm going in too deep. First I'm starting to make friends with her, next I feel myself falling for her. Next thing you know…

"Thank you for saving me, Cato," she mumbles into my shirt. "I'm sorry for everything."

And everything is silent. Nothing echoes off the large walls of the training room. Not even my rapidly beating heart, just now slowing down from the fear of Clove getting hurt.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I don't think I did as good of a job as I could have. I wanted to get in Clove's head more this time, and maybe cause some sort of "accident" *smiles mischievously* Mwehehehee. It was fun to write. _Please Please Please_ **review** and tell me what you think.


	6. Cold as death, but hot as hell

Today is the day of the Opening Ceremonies. Getting into my costume, I've noticed a few alterations from Flaga's sketch. Instead of the wings that would curl around my arms, they have become sleeves. Well at least my right arm. The left arm has two bands on my upper arm, and my forearm, both containing feathers that envelope a small part of my arm, like bracelets, only a little different. I step into the chariot. Our horses are blood red with white crosses spray painted onto their sides. I find that a bit tacky, myself. But where is Cato? Maybe they are having some sort of wardrobe malfunction.

"He's coming," says Flaga, leaning against the chariot. "Don't worry."

I feel blush well up in my face as I say, "I'm not worrying. What makes you think that?"

Flaga just laughs and steps up to adjust the nurse's hat/halo that appears to be suspending above my head. A car pulls up and someone I do not recognize steps out with what appears to be a bundle of cloth, but when I take a close look I realize it is a baby. A live baby!

"Be very careful with her," says the woman. "She's only about six months old so she's very fragile."

"Don't worry ma'am," says Flaga, transferring the baby to my arms. "The bands on her arm will prevent her from dropping her."

Ok, that makes sense now. But it is still a weird way of designing the wings. The skirt is slit down the side so my leg shows. Of course, they would want to show as much skin as possible. The wings on my back are surprisingly light, and the tips of each feather are sprayed red.

"We will return her to you safely," says Flaga, escorting the woman back to the car. As soon as it speeds away, Cato shows up with his costume which has also been modified a bit. The bends of his wings have claws which cling to the supersized syringe filled with what appears to be blood. He has similar bands on his arms, but they don't look as good as mine. He looks very annoyed for some reason, but I just look down at the baby to avert his gaze. She is very cute, with big blue eyes and there is a tiny birthmark on the side of her neck. I wonder why they gave me this baby out of any they could have given. I feel the chariot shake as Cato tries to hold himself up against the side. His eyes are wide with shock and he stares at the baby, gaze locked on her.

"What?" I ask. "It's just a baby."

"K-Ki…"

My jaw drops as I look back at the baby in my arms. Could it be? Would they really do that?

"Kimi?!"

Cato regains his balance and approaches me, grabbing my free arm.

"Please," he begs. "Please let me hold her for a little bit."

"How do you know this is your sister?" I ask.

He points to the birth mark on her neck and I nod and hand her too him without a question. I turn to Flaga, who is joined by Ursula and ask, "How did you get clearance for this? I thought we weren't supposed to see our family members after we left our District."

Ursula shrugged and smiled as she said, "I was able to pull a few strings. It adds to the affect because people will know who she is. I made sure of it."

The Capitol anthem plays and I see the District 1 chariot take off into the sun. I see Cato and I know he is not ready to let Kimi go, but with sadness in his eyes and hesitation in his movements, he slowly hands her over to me.

"Alright now," says Ursula. "I want you to put your arm around Cloves waist…yes, like that. Clove, you only need to hold the baby with one arm so you can wave to the crowd. Cato, you too. Make them love you. This is going to blow all the others out of the water. Life and Death, coming together. So different! Cato, look fierce and serious. Clove, I want you to look gentle, but serious. Don't forget to wave though."

The chariot lurches to life and Cato tightens his grip on my waist as we ride into the opening, into the open world.

* * *

I'm still shaken up from my reunion with my baby sister. Why would they bring her here? What is the purpose?

It takes everything to wrench my gaze from Kimi and onto the crowd as we ride out behind the District 1 chariot. I wonder how I am supposed to look fierce and wave at the same time but I imagine myself as some sort of a king, and I pull it off. Clove looks absolutely stunning. I keep looking at our images on the large television screens, we look so different in contrast, but I can't keep my eyes off of Clove holding Kimi. She is breathtaking. I just look deadly, but with my arm around her, we look like some sort of an eternal team.

My thoughts are wrenched from me as I hear the crowd gasp and roar with excitement. On the television I see District 12 come out last.

Holy shit!

They're on fire! Or they're capes and crowns are… How in the world? They have completely sucked all the attention of the crowd that _was_ on us. I suddenly feel anger at that District. The one time they have a decent costume this year it has to be the year I was here as well. But they looked weak at the reapings, and now, they look so powerful.

We arrive in front of President Snow's mansion and he gives his huge speech, yada yada yada. I just cannot wait to get out of this bat suit. As soon as we are released to go to the elevators to our room I see Clove hand Kimi over to Flaga to take her away and I run over to ask for a minutes with her. Flaga shakes her head and says she will let him look at her one more time before she takes her away. I try to memorize everything about my precious baby sister. Her eyes, her soft skin, the birthmark, everything that I want to return home to see.

And then she is gone, just like that. I storm to the elevator and smash the 16 button. Why the hell we are so high up in the building I have no idea. I rip my wings off and hurl them against the wall. The elevator doors stall as Clove walks in to join me. She raises an eyebrow at me and then at the wings on the floor.

"Are you ok?" she asks, placing her hand on my arm. Out of impulse I jerk away and snap, "Don't touch me!"

Clove recoils, her back hitting the furthest wall from me. Her wings are still on, but the halo is starting to look lopsided, even its suspended form. She looks twice as small as she stares at me, her violet eyes filled with hurt. But then her gaze flares to anger and she steps forward and pushes me, which doesn't do much seeing as she is not nearly as strong as I am. For some reason she hits the alarm button on the elevator and we screech to a halt.

"What did you do that for?" I ask.

"You jerk!" she screams. "I can't believe you! You can't control your temper at all! And you _never _have to pay for it! It's always everyone else! Especially me!"

Her face turns red with fury and I retaliate with equal anger, "Well I'm _so_ sorry. Next time I see my baby sister taken away from me for no reason I'll try to be a bit more _sensitive._" I spat the last word out. Clove suddenly backslaps me with the same gentle hand she had cradled Kimi with. I see tears well up in her eyes, but she is not sad. She is still angry.

"Why do you do that to me?" she cries. "You come on all smooth and cool, and then you turn into the typical person from your _slum_ of a town…" My face heats up. "…then you are someone who I could generally get along with, a _friend._ And now you're acting like a monster! Your wings are off but you're as cold as death itself!"

"Well guess what princess?" I retort. "You're not exactly the perfect _angel_ right now."

She raises her hand to slap me again and I catch her wrists, then the other as she tries to smack me again.

"Oh stop squirming," I say. "You know you're not as strong as me."

She takes a kick, aiming between my legs but I push her against the wall and pin my knee to her legs, keeping her from kicking me.

"Clove, stop," I say. She still won't quit. She's thrashing and squirming, and I am growing impatient.

"Clove," I speak a little softer, but still firm. She looks up at me, still flailing beneath my grip.

"Let go!" she screams. "Let go now! You lying, two-faced, bastard! You've been playing me for a ditzy rich girl and I've poured out everything! Cato I swear I'll—"

I'm not sure if it was to calm her down, to shut her up, and other reason, or all of the above, I crush my lips against hers and I hear her gasp through her nose. Her fists tighten and she stiffens all over. But then she begins to relax and her fists unclench. I pull away from her. Her eyes are sultry and dreamy looking. I stifle a smirk and let go of her. For a moment she just stands here, mouth wide open.

"Clove?" I move my head a little to look at her. "Say something."

She blinks a few times then looks back up at me. I watch her as she slowly raises her hand again. She smacks me again and then grabs the front of my shirt and pulls me back down. When she kisses me, it is hard, but not as restrained. As her arms rest on my shoulders I bring my hands around her waist, pulling her to my frame. The kiss lasts much longer than the first one; it is slower, deeper, better.

It is only until we pull away that we notice the elevator had been moving for a while, and now the door is open to the shocked faces of Uncle Curry and Prica staring at us.

"Well well well," is all I hear from Prica before Curry wrenches me from the elevator and drags me down the hall, and throws me into my room.

We're screwed.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I hope you liked this one...not much to say about this chapter..... _Please Please Please_ **review** and tell me what you think.


	7. Practice makes perfect

**This one is a bit longer than the others. I had a lot to put into this one.**

* * *

Uncle Curry shoves me into my room and the door slams shut behind him. He mumbles some profane words then calls me an f-ing idiot (articulating his swears).

"Are you insane?" he yells at me. "Please tell me I did not just see you sucking face with your female counterpart!"

I ignore him and go to the bathroom to wash my make up off. He follows me.

"Listen to me, Cato," he says. "You _cannot_, I repeat, _cannot_ get attached to Clove like that. It will only hurt when she dies."

"_If_ she dies," I say.

"What kind of attitude is that? Not one of a career! Cato, if you are to win, she has to die eventually."

As much as I hate it, he is right. For me to win, she will have to die. I cannot be attached. However, what happened in the elevator. There was just so much electricity.

"Maybe they'll change the ru-"

Curry smacks me and grabs my shirt.

"They _never_ change the rules," he snarls. "Get your head out of the clouds boy, and in the game! You have to be able to kill to be in these Games. You want to win. Isn't that why you volunteered?"

I slowly nod and shove him off me.

"Do you understand me?" Curry snaps. "You cannot be with Clove like that anymore. Understand?"

"Yea," I mumble, defeated.

"Do you understand?" he says harsher. I glare at him.

"Yes _sir_," I spit. He leaves the room and I flip him off from behind his back.

"I saw that," he says, staring into the chrome reflection of the door before leaving. I swear multiple times before I tear my stupid costume off and slip on a pair of pajamas pants.

My dreams are filled with Clove. She wears her costume, flying across the sky with her wings outstretched, shading me from the sun. She holds Kimi in her arms, and when she lands, she kisses me and places my baby sister in my arms. It is a sunny day in District 2 and I see my mother and father healthy and happy. They look in love all over again.

Then suddenly, I am in the Hunger Games. The arena is a desert. I hate the heat.

I. Hate. It.

It is sweltering and I can barely walk. I am still holding Kimi. My mother and father are gone and I am surrounded by fellow careers, except Clove. I see her just a few feet away twitching on the ground, a snake biting firmly down on her neck. I try to scream for her but my voice is gone. The snake then lunges and snatches Kimi right from my arms, tearing her to pieces.

I wake up screaming louder than I have ever before. I am pretty sure I woke someone up because I hear pounding from under my floor. I stare at the wall facing my bed and then I jump back when I feel a cool hand on my arm. In a split second I am on the other side of the bed, clutching the lamp that was on the night stand. From the darkness, I can just barely make out two violet eyes.

"Cato, are you alright?" Clove whispers. "You've been screaming all night. I had to get an Avox just to get in here."

I place the lamp down and switch it on. Clove is standing there in a green tank top and pajama shorts. I hate to admit it but I am slightly turned on. She raises her eyebrows then retreats to the bathroom, and brings out a towel and its only then I realize I am sweating like a pig.

"Bad dream?" she asks, sitting down on the bed.

"Yea," I breathe out, wiping myself dry.

"Want to tell me about it?"

Do not get attached. You cannot be with her like that.

"No," I say sharply. She recoils and apologizes for asking.

"Whatever," I mumble. Clove is now getting annoyed. This is not going down well.

"I'm just trying to help," she says.

"Yea, well, I was fine."

Clove stands up and snatches the towel from my grasp before storming out of my room.

Burning bridges, one by one.

* * *

The next day is training day and I am not in a good mood. Stupid Cato. He's so ungrateful. I try not to talk to him, which is going to be difficult since we are going to be forming our career pack today.

The training rooms are below the building. I feel like I am going into a basement for storage. Someone pins a piece of cloth with the number 2 on my and Cato's back. We are briefed on the training sections, where people will be at constantly to guide us through the exercises. I see the tributes from District 12 come in a tad late and I almost laugh aloud when I see that they are matching outfits. Then I feel contempt towards the girl seeing as they stole _our _spotlight during the opening ceremonies.

When we are freed to go train, I head straight for the throwing knives. Cato makes a beeline to the swords and spears.

"My goodness," says the trainer at the knife throwing station as I hit a dummy in between the legs. "I feel sorry for any boy who comes across you in the arena."

I glance over at Cato and say, "Me too," and continue to hit the dummy.

Over the next few days, the other tributes seem to fall into a pattern of visiting certain stations. I am smart. I go to _ever_y station I can. Of course, at every boring station, like knot tying, or camouflage, I see those two from 12. Something is not right about Katniss. I heard the boy say her name. What a strange name in fact.

Lunchtime comes and all the Careers hog up a table in the gymnasium cafeteria. I sit next to Glimmer, from 1, and A.J. from 4. I think her full name is Aqua Jewel, but I do not blame why she chose A.J.

"Hey, Clove," says Glimmer, after sipping her flavored tea. "Is it true you and Cato made out in the elevator?"

A.J. leans forward in curiosity as I feel red-hot blush spreading to my cheeks.

"Of course not!"

I snap my head over to see Cato and the other boys, Marvel and Swell.

"Why would I make out with Clove?" Cato scoffs. I feel my face heating up again, but this time it is anger.

"Well my mentors spoke with yours and I guess something slipped out," Glimmer said devilishly, winking as she raised her tea to her lips again.

"So did you, Cato?" Swell nudges him in the side. "She _is_ hot"

I swiftly look down to hide my face with my hair so no one, at least not the boys, can see my swiftly growing anger. Glimmer glances at me and giggles a little.

"You did," she whispers, smiling. "He may deny it but you did."

"We did not," says Cato, as if on cue. I cannot take anymore. I rise from the table, but not before "accidentally" spilling my water in Cato's direction. I dump my food and go back to training, focusing on edible plants, boring but complicated enough to keep my mind off Cato. A.J. soon joins me.

"As interesting as that is," she says, sitting down, "it is dangerous, you know that Clove."

I nod. I have grown to like A.J. over the past few days. Although she is a girl, her short spiked hair and tomboyish attitude is a breath of fresh air, and universes apart from Glimmer. Oh my gosh, Glimmer is such a girlie girl. Her golden hair is never out of place, even at the wrestling station, where I beat almost everyone by pinning them down.

Hey, it is not fat; it is muscle.

* * *

Our private session with the Gamemakers is coming up and I am so glad we go third and fourth because I do not think I could endure more awkward silence from Clove. I go before her, so after Glimmer is finished with whatever she did, I stand up and before I walk out, I hear Clove softly say, "Good luck."

My concentration is nearly blown from those two words. For a moment, I forget what I am going to do, then I see the double edges of the wall lined with swords and I remember. For a while, I demolish dummies, flipping the sword around in my hand effortlessly. I switch to my left hand just to add effect. I am just as good with it.

Another reason I am glad that I am third is that the Gamemakers are not drunk yet, as they usually are by 10 or 12. So I move to the spears with confidence. I hit one dummy so hard; it flies back and sticks into the wall. Then my time is up, and I am dismissed.

I lounge in the sitting room of our district floor, waiting for Clove to finish her session. Uncle Curry and Prica both give me pats on the back and congratulate me. Something tells me they were watching from the television. It is only now that I notice they are watching Clove in her private session. She is throwing knife after knife into targets she painted onto different parts of the dummy. I cringe and moan in sympathy for the dummy as she hits it twice in between the legs. I can hear the moans from the other men in the gymnasium. She then does some knot tying, but she is doing something weird. She is tying them to the light fixtures on the ceiling. Then she climbs up onto the rope and weaves her ankles through the loops she tied and hangs upside down.

And continues to throw perfect bulls eyes!

"Damn," I hear Curry say. "The girl is talented."

Prica laughs and says, "Never know when you are going to have to hang upside down."

I am completely transfixed by Clove's grace on the rope. She weaves in and out, continuing to throw knife after knife. She even starts to swing in a circle. The best part is when the light wrenches from the ceiling and she back flips off the rope and lands on her feet, swiftly throwing her last knife into the light bulb right before it hits the ground.

"Damn!" I hear three or four Gamemakers guffaw at her. They dismiss her and as she leaves, she looks up at the camera and gives some sort of smirk that says You-better-think-twice-before-messing-with-me-Cato.

She walks in, sits down in the furthest chair from me, and says nothing, even when Curry and Prica continue to praise her. Although she is only smiling faintly, I can tell she is just eating up the fact she blew my session out of the water, even if she did not see what I did.

"Wait," I say, interrupting Curry and Prica. "How did you stick that landing so well? The last time you fell from that high up, you nearly killed us both!"

Clove laughs innocently and says, "Practice makes perfect."

Her eyes flash somehow, giving her that deadly beauty look for a split second, and then she looks at the television as they show the scores.

Glimmer and Marvel both receive eights. I am proud to say that I beat them, receiving a nine, but then when I see Clove's score up on the screen, my jealousy flares up in me.

Ten.

She beat me. _She_ beat _me_. How could the weak clumsy girl I met on the day of the reaping have beaten me in the private session? The rest of the scores go by, and I do not really pay any more attention to them until I see the girl from District 12.

Eleven!

No way. I relish the moment as I look over at Clove, jaw dropped and wide eyed. I can tell she is struggling to avoid my gaze. Her fifteen _seconds_ of fame is gone. She may have gotten the highest career score, but not overall. I then see her eyes fill with something that can only be a true feel for the Games. She wants to fight now.

* * *

I cannot wait to kill that bitch from District 12.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Sorry for the delay. I've been busy with school (like many of my fellow writers) and my other two fanfictions. I felt like this story was moving a bit slowly so I put a lot into this chapter. But I may be wrong. It may not be moving slowly. You tell me! The review button is right down there!


	8. Can't wait to kill

Our interviews are today. It is not hard to determine how I will portray myself. I'm going to be the fierce volunteer from District 2, more than eager to get into the arena and kill. I'm not sure what Clove is going though. Prica apparently hasn't said anything to Curry about it. It sucks. I want to know what she will be doing.

"Well there's not much else to work on," says Curry. "Alright then, go suit up and get ready to go."

I enter the torture chamber. AKA, the stylist's room. Ursula is apparently excited for my interview outfit. They scrub me down and dress me up in a white dress shirt with a white tie that is splattered with fake blood. The (again white) lab coat they put on me looks designed to also look like a tuxedo jacket. And of course both sleeves are cut off to show off my arms. Ursula seems to have a thing for them, and they oil them again. The pants look like scrubs, but they are also splattered with red. The shoes are dark red. Then they streak my hair with red. I look like some rebel doctor that graduated from school by the skin of his teeth, but oh well. They sling a stethoscope around my neck and I am ready to go.

While I wait for Clove to be dressed, I think about the tributes we will face. That Thresh kid pisses me off, refusing to be a part of the career pack. He could be really useful if he wasn't so stubborn. However, what really surprised me was when the boy from 12, Peeta, asked to be part of the pack. He got a good score on his private session, so he should be alright to tag along. There's something about him and the girl, Katniss. Something buried underneath that I just can't dig up. Hopefully it will be revealed in the arena.

Clove comes out of the torture chamber wearing a tight white dress that is cut just above her knees. On top, she wears a jacket to where the sleeves are also cut short, but not like mine. The jacket is splattered with fake blood, as are her white heels, and she also wears the nurse's hat that used to be the halo at the opening ceremonies. There are a few feathers stitched into her hat. They are definitely unnecessary. However, she still looks beautiful. Her legs are so long and the dress hugs her curves…err… stop staring, Cato!

"Ready?" she says, tilting her head slightly with a clenched jaw and raised eyebrows. I can just tell she is holding back the urge to smack me again, but I know she wouldn't kiss me after that one. We both enter the elevator with Prica and Curry which will take us to the stage. I shove every last thought I have for Clove out of my mind and switch on my killing instinct. I will not show mercy. Not in the interview. And not in the arena.

Caesar's dark blue suit with hundreds of tiny lights start to get boring because it is the same thing he wears each year. His hair and makeup is a baby blue, the rest of his face, liquid paper white. How the hell do these people find that attractive?

After a few jokes, Caesar warms the crowd up for Glimmer to start the interview. She's portraying flat out sexy with her short gold dress and golden hair. They succeeded in showing as much skin as possible without making her look like a slut. Marvel is slender and tall so he doesn't look like the "tough" type. He is portraying himself as bored, assuming the other tributes are weaklings, though he gives props to us careers. Ha, he thinks he'll be the leader of the pack? Think again. I could kill him with a snap of my wrist and his neck.

Finally, Clove steps out onto stage. I can see in the television screens, she isn't smiling the slightest bit. Her violet eyes are frozen over with a powerful shimmer. My jaw drops.

She's going for the ice queen look. She took my original thought of her! Smart girl, but still.

"So Clove," says Caesar, "you are one of the first careers to not have volunteered. Why do you think no one volunteered for you?"

Clove smirks without a smile.

"All those prissy little girls back home hate my guts," she says. "I can't wait to get home and show them how badass I can really be when they're not talking behind my back. When I win, they'll shut up."

Wow, she's swearing now.

"Well well well," Caesar continues. "You seem eager to enter the arena. How do you intend to win?"

Clove slowly blinks, her eyelashes, dappled with red glitter, sparkle. She's as still as a statue as she speaks.

"Well obviously kill, dear Caesar." The crowd chuckles, mesmerized by her act. "Though I don't believe I'll have an easy time trusting people, seeing as what's happened _behind _the cameras."

She flashes me a glance quickly but then in a fluent motion, turns back to Caesar. Of course, the cameramen have already caught her motion and turned the cameras to me. I raise an eyebrow and do nothing, repelling the attention back to Clove and Caesar.

"Oh my, so what has happened _behind _the cameras?" asks Caesar.

"Let's just say," Clove says slowly. "There might be some tension in the career pack. Whether this 'issue' will be resolved before he or she dies, I have no idea."

Not all of the careers are leaning over towards each other and murmuring a little, wondering if it is them or not. I don't move, which pretty much gives me away, but I don't care at this point. And once again, the cameras are on me because of my silence and stillness.

"Oh, keeping us guessing," Caesar says to draw the attention back to them. "You are definitely my favorite career so far my dear. You have a spark of… of _something_!" The buzzer goes off and the audience bursts out in a loud applause, admiring her stolid disposition as she smile just faintly at the camera. She immediately rises and walks back to her seat, flashing me the slightest grin before sitting down. I hold back a scowl as I go over and sit next to Caesar,

Block it. Block everything out and focus. You are a killer, ready to get in the arena.

I put on a flashy smile and shake Caesar's hand hard, so that when he draws back he is rubbing his fingers.

"You're a strong fellow, Cato," he says. "I suppose that is how you are going to win."

"That and many more ways," I reply, glancing at past my picture in the television screen.

Right at Clove.

* * *

Cato has returned to cocky and arrogant. Every question Caesar throws at him Cato answers with ease and confidence, all while maintaining the ruthless killing machine attitude.

"So regarding Clove's secret dilemma," says Caesar. "You were the only one not to react to it. Could this possibly mean this is you?"

Cato laughs lightly and leans in, drawing in Caesar as well.

"Between you and I," he says, "Clove and I are probably the big leaguers of these Games this year. I think she is just trying to find something to be humble about."

My jaw drops at him. That threw me off. He is helping me? Why would he help me?

"I was able to watch her private session," he continues. "And though I won't say anything about it, I know she won't have any trouble in any arena she's thrown into."

"Giving props to your partner," says Caesar. "That's a great quality, don't you think, everyone?"

The crowd applauds loudly, louder than my applause. Now I'm angry.

"You are truly someone I'll want to follow until the end of the Games," Caesar finishes. The timer goes off and the audience goes wild as Cato jumps from his seat and takes big strides to his seat. The rest of the interviews fly by as I ponder what Cato did in the interview. Why the hell would he help me? Even if we are a part of the same pack, I getting sponsors will most likely not help him.

I am suddenly brought back to reality when my eyes are transfixed by the District 12 girl, Katniss, wearing a literally fiery dress. She looks as though she is wearing fire. I am suddenly jealous. She hasn't even spoken yet and the crowd is already going insane for her. All through the interview she is girly and sweet, even twirling in her dress. How in the hell could girlthis prissy girly-girl have gotten an eleven in her private session?

I still can't wait to kill her. She makes me angry just looking at her. She finishes her interview with something about a promise to her sister and glides off the stage. The boy, Peeta, who apparently is also a part of the career pack, is dressed in a black suit with flame accents along the seams. It definitely clashes with his blond hair and blue eyes. For the most part, he seems to be making friends with Caesar until his mood drops as Caesar asks him is he has a girlfriend back home.

Then bam! He admits that he is in love with Katniss. The crowd murmurs, some people even cry. That's it; all the other interviews might not even exist compared to this Peeta kid. He just blew all of us away for his declaration of love. Now I want to kill him too, but now that he is in the career pack, I'll have to wait. When I win, I'll have fun watching the recap of District 12's two deaths, via moi.

* * *

I awake after a fuzzy dream. All I can remember is watching Clove tear apart Katniss with a single knife, laughing maniacally.

Shows you the kind of things I remember.

In the morning I stay in my pajama pants and enter a hovercraft that will take me to the arena. Clove is nowhere to be seen. A random man gives me a shot and explains that it is the tracking device so the Gamemakers can trace my whereabouts. Good, I'll be sure to give them a show.

Once we are in the chamber below the arena, I am dressed in a light green shirt with brown pants, and boots. The belt buckle has "II" in it. I remember studying Roman numerals in school so I recognize them as 2. I rather like the long jacket that falls to my knees. It suits me, and it is the first time since I left District 2 that my arms are covered up.

I am provided with food and I eat all I can. I especially tank up on carbohydrates, seeing as though I learned that it can keep your energy up for a long time.

I feel sorry for those who lack the medical knowledge unlike Clove and I. In the Launch room Curry just gives me a few reassuring words before I climb onto the platform that will take me up into the arena.

"You're a career," he says. "Something tells me you'll be the leader too. Don't be afraid to cut anyone down who opposes you. And always stay alert. Do not underestimate any tributes, especially 12 this year."

I watch my uncle disappear as I am lifted up into the light. I lift my head high as I enter the arena and I catch the scent of pine.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, let the Seventy-Fourth Hunger Games begin!" booms the announcer Claudius Templesmith.

The arena is a forest. I take the sixty seconds to find all of my career mates and then scan the Cornucopia for the supplies I want. It will be easy to get there before anyone else.

The sixty seconds are up, the gong rings, and I take off running. Let the killing begin.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Yay! The Games have finally begun. Sorry it took so long to get to this point, I just wanted to build Cato and Clove's characters. But now I can get into the killing! Blood and guts. Mwahahahaha! **Review please!** I enjoy everyone's feedback.


	9. Let the Games begin

Run, run, run. Don't look back, just keep running. The Cornucopia is _right _there.

The items are placed all around the golden Cornucopia, and then spread out as they get further out. Beyond that is nothing but pine forest, some parts denser than others.

I am not the first one there. Cato is already picking up a sword and a backpack. Marvel follows after him with a spear and another pack. I finally get there and look for knives. Come on, knives, _knives!_ I see a belt lined with throwing knives next to a blue backpack. I quickly sling that over my shoulder and swirl around to see Glimmer making her way next to Swell. I look back to Cato. He and A.J. have already taken down two tributes. Peeta seems to be distracted. He's watching Katniss run away.

Katniss! She's right there! Perfect range, too. She's fighting over a backpack with a boy. Might as well take him out first.

I fling one of my knives as hard as I can and it lands square in his back. He coughs up blood on Katniss (which I thoroughly enjoy) and falls down dead. Now Katniss sees me. As she turns to run, I throw another knife as I run towards the dead boy to retrieve my other one. It sticks hard into her back, but her damn backpack is in the way and though she stumbles, she keeps going. I yank the knife from the boy's back frustratingly and turn to survey the bloodbath, where Glimmer uses her leg to break a girl's balance and then pushes her on her back, jamming her palm into the back of the girl's neck, breaking it

Ouch.

I didn't realize glittery, girly Glimmer could hold so much power. Just then, another tribute girl, I think from 7, jumps and clotheslines Glimmer onto her back and then pins her down, a knife to her throat. I run to her aid and with my already bloody knife, I tackle the girl off of Glimmer, the blade going deep into her throat, and then I yank it out. She doesn't stand a chance.

"Thanks," says Glimmer, as I help her up.

"Don't think me yet," I say, turning back to the bloodbath to fight off more tributes. One boy, who isn't a career, has already killed one boy and a girl, and then is about to attack Cato. He jumps to stab him.

"Cato, watch out!" I scream. Cato whirls around and thrusts his sword up as the boy comes down on it. Two more stabs, and Cato throws the body aside, taking a short moment to glance at me before turning back to the fight.

You're welcome.

The Thresh kid from 11 has a good sized pack and is about to take off when Swell gets in his way. Oh, no no no, Swell don't do that! But it's too late. Thresh punches Swell in the face as he advances, and then wraps his arm around his neck. I just barely hear the sickening crack, and I know Swell is dead.

I don't see Thresh's partner. What was her name? Rue?

Glimmer, A.J. and I run after a fleeing tribute. She's a bit hefty so it is easy to catch up to her. Glimmer tackles her and A.J. pulls her head back by her hair and slits her throat.

Didn't even need me here.

Glimmer hurries back and snags a silver bow and quiver of arrows.

"I didn't know you could shoot," I tell her as the right rages on.

"I'm not great, but I can hit a target," she says, slinging the bow over her shoulder. A.J. grabs a second bag and all three of us try to determine whether we should assist the boys. Then A.J. leaves our group and attacks a girl who had been trying to sneak over to the Cornucopia itself to get some food and a spear and they get into a huge fist fight. A.J. kicks the girl in the stomach, then rolls over to a spear and then while on her back, thrusts the spear up into the advancing girl's stomach. Her high pitched scream is defining, but it dies down as she falls to the ground, lifeless.

"Good job, A.J.," says Glimmer. A.J. casually wipes her bloody nose and replies, "Why don't we help the boys?"

They look like they can handle themselves. One girl tries to flee the scene but Marvel and Cato block her way. A.J. walks up behind the girl as she starts to back up and stabs her in the back, but she doesn't die. Cato then approaches her and slits her throat. The last tribute to die in the bloodbath. It was an entertaining death. A few survivors scatter into the woods.

"Let them go," says Cato. "We should collect the supplies and then find a water source. Come on, let's hurry before the Gamemakers collect the bodies, and potentially some supplies with them."

"How would that work?" says Marvel.

"They might have grabbed something that will be taken up with them."

"Oh."

I think Marvel's chances at leadership were just demolished in that conversation. We collect our supplies, which consequentially is a lot. I snag all the knives I can get and another backpack, stuffing it with extra food. It takes a while to collect everything, and the bodies are starting to stink.

"Come on, let's get out of this mess," says A.J. kicking over a body and pulling the spear from her stomach.

"It's about noon," says Peeta, who steps out of the golden horn, arms filled with food. "It will get dark before we know it if we don't find water."

"Thanks, _Lover boy_," I retort. Marvel laughs and says, "Hey, that was good."

I see A.J. go over to Swell's body. She's quiet for a moment, but then she pulls a hatchet out of his belt and sticks it in hers. Despite everyone's determination to kill, it still hurts when we lose someone from our team.

It doesn't matter who you are.

* * *

There is a huge lake ahead after a few hours of hiking. Thank God for that. Glimmer walks loudly, and Marvel…well even though we're all relatively quiet, he still can't help but spark up a random subject to banter about. I hope he dies soon. Clove is quiet altogether, and she is also observant. She is always looking for trail marks and signs of water. I'm glad she didn't die in the bloodbath.

No, Cato! Stop that! She's just another tribute.

"Water!" A.J. gasps and sprints towards the lake's edge. She falls to her knees and dunks her head underneath. For a few moments it is awkwardly silent as we all watch A.J.'s District 4 side come out, boldly. Then she comes back up and shakes her wet head, flecks of water droplets still stuck to her short spiky hair.

"Are you done, A.J.?" says Glimmer, thrusting her hip out to the side and placing her hands on each side. I want to pop that hip back into place. Whatever went through this girl's head when she volunteered was obviously not to fight.

Maybe she thought she would meet Finnick Odair. Ugh, girls.

"Let's just make camp here and rest up so we can get up and hunt early," I say. We place all our food in a pile, and everyone snags a few bites. We have plenty so there really isn't much to worry about. We also fill our bottles and canteens.

"Alright, I'll take the first watch while everyone sleeps," says Clove, propping her backpack against a nearby tree and sits against it, crossing her legs at the ankles. It _has_ gotten dark.

"Well, alright then," says Peeta, setting his sleeping bag out. Everyone follows. I go over to Clove.

"You sure you want to stay up?" I ask her. "I could take the first watch."

"Shut up and just get some sleep," she said, not even bothering to look at me. "I'll wake you up in a few hours to take the _next _shift."

I raise an eyebrow at her and then say, "Thanks for covering me back there," and go set up my sleeping bag as well. She just turns her head, avoiding my gaze.

I lie awake for a while, staring at the sky. The Capitol Anthem blasts through the air, waking everyone from their five minutes sleep, if anyone was asleep at all. The Capitol seal in the sky starts to fade for a while and after a moment of darkness; the headshots of dead tributes appear in the sky.

Obviously 3 is first, but only the girl. Then Swell's face appears in the sky and disappears forever. It sucks because he was a pretty good fighter. He just _had_ to go after Thresh.

The boy from 5 shows up, then both from 6. Both tributes from 7 show up, which also sucks for them because they would have done well in this arena, filled with nothing but trees. Of course there is a field too, but they wouldn't have gone there. The boy from 8, both from 9, and finally the girl from 10.

And then the seal of the Capitol fades out with some music. That girl from 11 is alive? That surprises me. Twelve year olds don't normally last very long.

I fall asleep happy. The victory has now moved eleven deaths closer, close to the crown.

* * *

**Author's Note:** And so the Games have begun! I love writing about the careers! Their attitudes are so different from other tributes. So how was that? Love it, hate it? Let me know!


	10. I hate mornings

**Clove's POV**

I am the first to wake up. Marvel is sprawled out on his open sleeping bag, drooling, Glimmer is snoring, and A.J. is mumbling in her sleep. Peeta is really the only one pleasant to look at in his sleep.

I still hate his guts.

Wait, where's Cato?

"I see you're awake too."

I jump and whirl around to see Cato leaning against the lookout tree, drawing stuff in the dirt with a twig. He looks as if he is trying not to smile at my shocked reaction, but he can't help but grin the slightest bit at the corners of his mouth.

"What?" I hiss, putting my knife-lined belt on. "Since when have you been awake?"

"Since I noticed Marvel fell asleep keeping watch," he says. "Useless, I tell ya."

I roll my eyes and start waking everyone up since Cato looks _so _comfortable. I nudge Glimmer and A.J. I kick Marvel. He deserves it. He yells and rolls onto the dirt!

"Bitch!" he groans, half awake. "What was that for?"

"For falling asleep on the job, lazy!" I yell in his face.

"Guys, be quiet," says Peeta, sitting up in his sleeping bag. "Everyone can hear you. Weren't we going to go hunting?"

I kick Marvel one more time and then go back over to my supplies and organize all my knives. I put some food into my backpack because I know I'll be hungry. Cato takes out his flashlight, and I do the same with mine. Glimmer has one too, but the rest light torches. Except for Lover Boy. He has his hands full with supplies.

Everyone get's packed and we try to walk as quietly as possible. Peeta walks so loudly!

"Hey, Lover Boy!" I hiss back at him. "Can you pick your feet up a little more please?"

Peeta scowls at me and tries to walk more quietly, without dragging his feet. It is dark enough as it is, but the moon is practically nonexistent and the sun hasn't come up yet. Cato is in the lead, and I'm right behind him, Glimmer on my left, and A.J. on my right, scoping out the sides. Marvel is taking up the rear, and Peeta is still carrying the supplies.

For a while, all I can see is the sun coming up over the horizon until I see Cato stop in his tracks and point northwest. There is a fire burning. He puts a finger to his lips and motions us to follow him. Everyone does except me. I push Lover Boy and motion him to stay and then follow after everyone else. Once I catch up, Cato, I can see the fire starter. She's fallen asleep next to the dying flames. Idiot. She has it coming to her. But of course, Marvel steps on a twig, snapping _her_ awake. She sees us almost instantly, but it's too late.

We are too close.

"No, please," she begs, crawling backwards. "Please don't! _Please_!"

I come over and hold her down as she tries to get away. I pull out my knife but Cato holds out his hand.

"No, let me do it," he says, grinning. "I found her after all."

"No, please no!" the girl continues to cry. "Please don't kill me! Don't let him kill me! Oh God!"

She thrashes against my arms which hold hers down. She gazes up at me with big brown eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks. She can't be more than fourteen, maybe even thirteen. For a moment, I feel pity for this girl. Maybe I should let her-

Her blood curdling screams are deafening as Cato shoves his spear into her stomach and twists the shaft, causing her to scream more. A flock of birds take off in the distance.

I don't blame them.

Cato pulls the spear out aggressively and wipes the blood off on the girl's jacket. A.J. starts laughing and Glimmer joins in as Marvel goes and high fives Cato. I am quiet.

"Twelve down and eleven to go!" says A.J.

"Come on, let's see what she has," I add, shoving through everyone and kneeling at the girl's side. I drag over her backpack. She has a bowl, a food packet which is already empty, and a fire starter, obviously. Peeta lucked out. He doesn't have to carry anything more, and he actually looks relieved when he approaches and sees the lack of supplies.

"Damn," I say. "This girl has nothing!"

"Better clear out so they can get the body before it starts stinking," says Cato. We follow his lead and start walking away so the Gamemakers can come to collect the body. I stop, causing everyone to turn to me. Something isn't right.

* * *

**Cato's POV**

"Shouldn't we have heard a cannon by now?" says Clove. Marvel steps towards her a little.

"I'd say yes," he adds. "Nothing to prevent them going in immediately."

"Unless she isn't dead," Clove points out. I can feel my face grow hot as I approach Clove, getting inches away from her face.

"She's _dead_," I say through my teeth. "I stuck her myself."

"Then where's the cannon?" she ask a bit mockingly. My fingers curl around the spear tighter.

"Someone should go back," says Glimmer, stepping in next to Clove and I. "Make sure the job's done."

"Yeah," Clove say, getting more in mys face. "We don't want to track her down _twice_!"

"I said she's dead!" I shout back in her face. Marvel tries to interlude, and Glimmer tries to keep us apart, but Clove and I keep going at each other.

"What you think your dainty little knives could finish the job?" I say.

"They'd do a better job than you apparently!" Clove yells back. Then she continues a little sing-songy. "I still don't hear a cannon!"

"Guys stop," says Glimmer says, trying to put distance between us. I brush her hand away, as does Clove. We don't break each other's gaze.

"And you think you could have done a better job of tracking her down?" I ask.

"I could have gotten her from a distance! If _someone _wasn't so loud at walking!" She glares at Marvel who steps forward but A.J. holds him back, who gets yelled at by him.

"How in the hell could you hit something and be affective with those little things?" I challenge. "They're not even aero-dynamic."

"When are you stupid boys going to learn that size doesn't matter? Of course I'm sure _that's_ all your ego is focussed on, macho man!"

"What are you saying?"

"I think you know _exactly _what-"

"Everyone _shut up_!"

We all stop arguing and turn to Peeta. That was the loudest thing I had heard him ever say.

"We're wasting time!" he continues. "I'll go finish her and let's move on!"

Clove smirks at me, and I narrow my eyes at her and then turn to Peeta.

"Go on then, Lover Boy. See for yourself."

Peeta nods and takes out his knife. Loudly, he walks away and there is an awkward silence.

"Why don't we just kill him now and get it over with?" Clove protests, crossing her arms.

"Let him tag a long," says A.J. "What's the harm? And he's handy with that knife."

I smile and lean in next to Clove's ear and whisper, "See? You're not the only one." Then I back up and say, "Besides, she's our best chance of finding _her._"

I can't wait to find that Katniss girl. Stupid "Girl on Fire". She makes me sick.

"Why?" Clove asks. "You think she bought into that sappy romance stuff?"

"She might have," says Marvel. "Seemed pretty simpleminded to me. Every time I think about her spinning around in that dress, I want to puke."

That makes two, buddy.

"Wish I knew how she got that eleven," says Glimmer. I see Clove grit her teeth and ball her fists up. Hehe, the ice queen's jealous.

"Bet you Lover Boy knows," says A.J. Speaking of which, Peeta returns, wiping his bloody knife off on his shirt.

"Was she dead?" I ask.

"No. But she is now."

The cannon goes off and Clove puts on a mock expression of shock and mouths, "Look at that!"

I step towards her again in threat, but Glimmer literally steps in between us, places her hands on my chest and says, "Ready to move on?"

I glare at her and then over her shoulder at Clove, then turn around and walk away. I don't even bother to see if anyone is following me. I know they are.

I'm the pack leader.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Yay! I'm up to a chapter with two digits in it! WOOT WOOT! It was fun writing this chapter cause this is one of the most memorable parts of the actual book to me. And I just love making Cato and Clove argue. So much chemistry...I hope. Do they have chemistry? Let me know!


	11. I could kill her so easilly

**Clove's POV**

We are all back at the camp, apparently one death is enough to make everyone practically hate each other. And by everyone I mean Cato and I.

"Can we think of a better way to keep track of our supplies besides carrying it around everywhere?" asks Peeta. "It's hard to walk quietly when you're a blasted pack mule."

"I think it's hard to walk quietly for you period," I add under my breath, but then I speak up. "Lover boy is right, though. We shouldn't have to bring all this junk with us. Someone should stay and watch the food while we all hunt."

Simultaneously, we all turn to Peeta, who rolls his eyes and sits his pack down.

"Fine," he says. "You pick me to carry the supplies because I could toss weights around, and now since I _can't_ walk perfectly like twinkle toes here…" He glares at me. "…I'm keeping guard."

"That pretty much sums it up," says A.J. with a chuckle. Marvel chimes into the laughing, and Glimmer soon joins. Cato smirks, but I'm indifferent. I'm not sure whether Lover boy's comment was meant to be an insult a compliment, or just a comment.

We spend the whole day organizing our supplies. Our mountain of food is encouraging once we separate it from our smaller pile of weapons. It seems that there was only one set of throwing knife that I manage to grab. There are some other knives, but mostly spears, and swords. There are a handful of clubs, and some nets, even a couple of slingshots, but what's a slingshot going to do against someone like Thresh?

Nothing. He could do more damage with a rock.

Once everything is organized, we all wash the sweat and grime off our bodies in the lake before getting a bite to eat and waiting for the Capitol Anthem to blast. The girl we killed appears in the sky, but she is the only death today. She was apparently from District 8. Her big brown eyes and dozens of freckles come, and then disappear forever. I almost feel pity for her. Almost, but it soon goes away, when I think about how her death is one step closer to winning, one step closer to annihilating District 12. Oh, what a moment that will be.

"I'll take first watch," says Cato. "Everyone get some sleep. We're going to hunt again tomorrow."

No one protests, but I simply cannot shut my eyes. So many scenarios rush through my head. Katniss or Peeta being my last competitor. I can already hear them begging for mercy, just like the girl from 8 did.

"You don't have to pretend to sleep, princess."

I look down from the stars to where Cato lounges against a nearby tree, once again drawing swirls in the mud. I roll my eyes at him and sit up in my sleeping bag.

"How did it feel to have the first kill after the bloodbath?" I ask, with a hint of sarcasm on my tongue.

"I didn't kill her, _remember_?" he retorts. "Lover boy over there did."

"She would have died eventually."

"Now look who's the contradictory one."

"What?"

Cato tosses his stick aside and crosses his arms.

"In the elevator," he says, his voice dropping an octave. I didn't realize his voice could get that deep. Just because of that I miss his statement.

"What?"

"The _elevator, _princess," he grumbles. "You kept going on about how contradictory I was by being nice to you and then giving you the cold shoulder."

"It was more the whole left side of your body," I say mockingly. "I even got my hopes up that you were having a stroke."

A little District 2 humor, but apparently it's not funny to him.

"That was lame, Clove," he says, smiling only for a moment.

"Well I still hold to what I said in the elevator."

"And that would be?"

"God, you must have amnesia and be bipolar!" I hiss, standing up. "You were sickly sweet to me right before we left District 2, then the competitive side must have gotten a hold of you because then you turned…well competitive." Good choice of words Clove. _That _will teach him. "And… and then you're nice again! The opening ceremonies? The _warm comforting _arm around my waist? What was that to find the weak points around my torso or something? Then right _after_ the ceremonies, you turn all defensive. And _then_…"

"Shh!" Cato shushes, putting a finger to his mouth. It's only then I realize my voice has risen to a slight shout. I look back at the sleeping careers. None of them have stirred. I turn back to Cato, fury burning in my words.

"And… then… you… _kiss_…me…" I hiss, stepping towards him with each word. "Need I go on? You've been pretty icy since then!"

Cato's jaw clenches and he stands up as well, towering over me. I had felt pretty confident with him sitting down, but now that I have to look up at him…

I wish I hadn't left my knives by my sleeping bag.

* * *

**Cato's POV**

I have to keep myself from laughing at Clove's facial change from fierce, to defensive when I stand up. I keep my disposition stolid as I stare her down.

"I have my reasons," I say, which is really all I can say. Aside from what Uncle Curry told me… should I tell her that?

"And what would these 'reasons' be?" she says with her fingers as quotation signs on the side of her head. I roll my eyes as if I have control of the conversation.

I really don't.

"I don't have to answer you," I say through my teeth. Clove's violet eyes flare and she clenches her fists. I can almost see the urge to backslap me again in her eyes.

"What was all of that then?" she retaliates. "All of that, before you vanished from the elevator? The kiss? The laughs on the train? Trying to get to know me?" She looks away. "I'm an idiot to think this might actually have gone somewhere. I mean, hey, look at District 12." I motion with my head at the sleeping Peeta. "They probably have a mile long sponsor line because of Lover Boy's little confession."

"So it's about the sponsors now?" I say, raising an eyebrow. "I have to say, that's a bit shallow. But what else is to be expected from the mayor's daughter?"

_Now,_ she backslaps me, she must have gained some strength since the last time because that really hurt. I hold my throbbing cheek and stare at her. I must look shocked because she has a satisfied grin curling from her pink lips. I scowl and push her backwards. Her jaw drops as she regains her balance.

"What the _hell_?" she hisses, her eyes flaring.

"These are the Hunger Games, princess," I say, crossing my arms in equal satisfaction. "Don't expect me to be a gentleman."

"Stop…" She groans, pushing me back with every word. "…calling…me…that!"

She really has a low tolerance level. I decide to have a little fun. I lean forward, my face inches from her face and whisper, "Princess," dripping with sarcasm. She raises her hand to slap me, but I catch her, not taking my eyes off of her. I shake my finger between our face.

"No, no, no," I tease. "Not this time."

She tries to knee me, but I grab her waist with both hands and turn her around so she face the other way, pressing her back against my chest.

"Let go!" she grumbles, struggling against my body. I hold her arms to her curves and all she can do is kick helplessly. I lean forward to the side of her face. The heat from my breath suddenly makes her aware of my presence and she freezes.

"Do you realize how easily I could kill you right now?" I whisper into her ear. "One twist of the neck, one squeeze right now; I could crush you right now, princess."

She breathes heavily through her teeth, worn out from me effortlessly holding her. She suddenly chuckles lightly and turns her head so one violet eye meets my gaze.

"And to think that at one point these arms held me so gently," she says, a hint of sadness in her voice. "You must have had _some_ talk with your uncle to change your mind so fiercely."

By impulse, my arms release Clove and she whips around, facing me. She seems pleased that she hit the key phrase. She folds her arms over her chest and tilts her head slightly, almost flirtatiously.

"So it _was_ Curry," she whispers. "Prica talked with me too, but he must have scolded you like dog."

A Slums reference. Everyone from where I am from is referred to as some sort of poor animal. In this case, a dog. She may not have meant it that way, but it is enough. I grab her arms tightly and pull her forward.

"Listen to me now, _princess._" I spit out the last word. "It might not have occurred to your blissful blond brain, but I. Am. A. Human. Not a dog, not a feline, and not a sewer rat."

"Ow, ow!" she whimpers under my grip. "Cato, you're hurting me!"

"My name is Cato Taran. I'm 17 years old. I have a family, a life, and an assortment of combat skills. I also, if you haven't caught on by now, have feelings. No matter what you gossip girls think and chit chat about, I am not heartless bottomless pits who wants nothing but sex." Her face heats up as I quote her, mockingly, changing the pitch of my voice to sound like hers. "_'When are you stupid boys going to learn that size doesn't matter? Of course I'm sure that's all your ego is focused on, macho man_!"

Clove's face turns beet red and she struggles against my grip.

"Cato, please," she practically begs. "You're hurting me. Let go!"

"Have you even been listening?"

"Yes, I have!" She's starting to tear up.

"Hey!"

Both Clove and I turn to see A.J. getting up from her sleeping bag.

"Break it up, and shut up!" she says quietly, but harshly. "Both of you just go to bed. I'll keep watch."

I look down at Clove's arms, which are starting to turn purple. I let go roughly and she shakes out her wrists, trying to get the feeling back. She looks up at me with anger and hurt in her eyes, and then stomps back to her sleeping bag. I do the same, but not before dragging my bag to the other side of the campsite. I'll have to get all of my anger out by hunting another pathetic tribute tomorrow. Maybe I'll find that damn District 12 girl. I fall asleep thinking about the many ways I could drive my sword through her neck.

* * *

**A/N:** It was kinda hard to write this chapter since there isn't any hint of what goes on with the careers in the actual book. So MORE CATO/CLOVE ANGST! Haha, It will probably be easier to write the next chapter, so I'll see you then!


	12. Just let me die quickly

**Clove's POV**

The whole next day, even though we hunt all day long, and only returning to camp for lunch, we don't find a single tribute. This puts Cato in a sour mood.

Fantastic. We have a grumpy seventeen year old career. Not a good mix. He volunteers to watch the whole night, and we don't protest. The next day we go out hunting again. The forest is dense and we all decide to spit up and scout through the trees in a uniform matter. I slowly make my way through my area, far to my left Glimmer has her bow out and the quiver is slung over her shoulder. Marvel is to my right, squeezing his spear tightly. I cannot see Cato, or A.J. Peeta is back at the camp with the supplies. Thank God too, because he would be making more noise than ever. He is not here, and the forest is quiet, so quiet.

It is not like the kind of quiet that I am used to back in District 2's operating rooms. There is always the beep of their heart monitors or the cling of metal instruments or even the squish of bodily fluids and organs if surgery is being performed.

No, this kind of quiet is eerie, natural. All I can hear is my breath and the crunching of leaves beneath me. Every time I hear some sort of crunch or crack I know is not mine, my senses go into overdrive and I poise to throw my knives at whatever could be lurking behind or even in the trees.

I begin to hear many cracks, and I'm not sure where to look. Then it is upon me before I can even see it coming. The forest is on fire! I can no longer see Glimmer or Marvel over the wall of flames that have surrounded me. There is another sound other than the crackling of the fire engulfing the wood. There is a thud behind me. I turn to see a figure landing on the ground from presumably in the tree. As soon as I catch sight of Katniss' long black braid, I start sprinting after her, before she has even started to run. I am almost right behind her when a wall of fire completely cuts us off. I don't even have the visual range to throw a knife at her. She has already disappeared into the smoke, the faint sounds of her coughing fading out. I pound the ground in a mini fit.

"Damn it!" I scream, but then I realize Katniss had the right idea. I need to get out of here. I scramble to my feet and look for a way out. I'm almost completely trapped until suddenly a tree collapses onto the ground, giving me a bit of a bridge to run over into another maze of fire. The smoke starts to fill up my throat and I begin to cough. I can't escape. I am trapped again. I am almost positive the Gamemakers constructed this fire for Katniss, just for a good laugh back at the Capitol. But I almost had her! She was in throwing range! Why did I run for her! I could have taken her down from where I stood.

"Glimmer!" I call everyone out between coughs and gags. "Marvel… A.J…." I fall to my knees in a coughing fit before I can barely wheeze out the last name. "Cato!"

I start to retch, throwing up my generous meal of our wonderful Cornucopia food. Tears spring to my eyes as I fall on all fours like a dog. The smoke is enveloping me. I am going to die. Hopefully the smoke will knock me out before I can feel the searing pain of the fire. My first wish after all was to not die slowly.

I try to stand up shakily, in one last attempt to see if there is any form of exit. I hear strange hissing noises and then loud crashes. I even think I hear a girl shrieking, but it is hard to tell over the roaring of the fire. I stumble a few feet then collapse back onto the hot ground. Everything is starting to go fuzzy as I lose my breath. All I am breathing in are smoky toxins and poisons that are simply exhilarating my death. Good, the faster the better. I concede to my death and take one large painful breath before being pulled into unconsciousness.

* * *

**Cato's POV**

This damn fire came out of nowhere. First, A.J. was not far from my left and then bam! The walls of smoke and ash surrounded me. I can barely hear Clove calling out everyone's name, her voice getting weaker and weaker.

"Clove!" I call, through my damp shirt which I pulled over my nose and mouth. "Clove where are you?"

I do not hear a response and start to panic.

She's dying. She's dying!

I sheathe my sword and run in the direction I think her voice came from. Up on a high rock, I try to see what surrounds me. The flames have risen so high though; it is hard to see anything. Through a hazy cloud of smoke I can see a ring of fire. I hear ragged chokes, gags and coughing. I jump off the rock, through the flames, and thankfully come through unburned. To my horror, Clove is sprawled out on the ground, ash beginning to collect in her hair and on her body. She isn't breathing, but I have not heard her cannon yet. Though, who could over the noise of the fire.

"Clove," I call, kneeling at her side. I shake her violently, trying to wake her, but she doesn't budge. I scoop her up in my arms and fling her over one shoulder as I try to get out of the fire. I cannot go through where I came in from. That was a one way path. The flames dance up and down, and once they are at a reasonable level, I leap through them and take off running. Clove's weight does slow me down, but I am determined to get out of there. Her time is ticking away from lack or air. The poisonous smoke continues to fill the air and I keep my shirt over my face.

"Cato!" I hear Glimmer call out. She joins me in our dash through the forest.

"Where's Marvel and A.J.?" I ask.

"I don't know, just run!" she cries out through her shirt. We dash through the endless inferno.

When is this going to stop? Are the Gamemakers tying to take us all out in one day? How is that entertaining? No other tributes are willing to kill! This is a disgrace!

Marvel and A.J. join up with us as we make it out of the fire. The lake stands out before us and Peeta immediately stands up. We all practically fall down on to the ground, breathing in the fresh air.

And then I remember Clove. She's still slung limply over my shoulder and I gently place her on the ground, tilt her head back and check her ABC's: Airway, breathing, and circulation. Her airway is clear, but she isn't breathing, and her pulse is almost nonexistent.

"Is she dead?" Glimmer asks, coughing violently. I shake my head and make sure Clove's head is elevated properly and pinch her nose together. Closing my mouth over hers, I breathe two required breaths, making sure her chest is rising out of my peripheral vision. Thank God that I paid attention that one day in school.

"What's going on?" says Peeta, who has arrived from our supplies. I ignore him and check Clove's pulse again. Now it _is_ nonexistent.

"Cato, what the hell?" Glimmer cries out as I place one hand on top of the other on Clove's chest and pump down over and over. "You pervert! What are you doing?"

She lunges for me but I yell, "Stay back! I'm trying to restart Clove's heart."

"That's impossible!" cries Marvel, pulling Glimmer back up. "What-"

"He's right guys," says A.J. "We have to do this all the time back in District 4 when people breathe into much water. It's called Cardiopulmonary Resuscitation. Just let him do what he's doing. Give him space. And for the love of God, Glimmer, calm down. He has to do that!"

Marvel and Glimmer stare at A.J. as if she just grew a third eye.

But then, Glimmer unclenched her fists and crossed her arms, waiting for me to finish. I repeat the process twice more, breathing into her and pumping her chest fifteen times. During the middle of the second repetition, Clove gasps and starts gagging. I turn her head to the side, and she helps herself the rest of the way by leaning her whole torso over and starts vomiting.

"Oh, gross!" Glimmer mutters, covering her eyes.

"Hey, Lover boy," I call to Peeta. "Bring some water over here, will ya?"

He hands me a bottle and I hand it to Clove, who has just finished retching all over the ground.

"Take a sip to rinse out your mouth," I instruct. "Then take small sips. Do we have crackers or anything?"

"I have a few left," says A.J., rummaging through her bag. She pulls out a half eaten pack and hands them to me. Clove doesn't accept them right away; she is still taking _multiple_ small sips.

"Slowly," I say, placing my hand on her back. She looks up at me suddenly, tears staining through the ash on her face. She wipes her mouth and caps the bottle of water.

"What happened?" she asks weakly.

"You died," says A.J. sarcastically. "Cato here used CPR on you." Clove's mouth falls open. "He saved your life."

It's pretty funny how Glimmer and Marvel have no idea what is going on. What do they teach them in District 1?

* * *

**A/N:** I swear next chapter is the one where they find Katniss in the tree. I'm going to have fun writing that one. But when Katniss does see them their appearance pretty much spells out that they were in the fire too, so I had fun with this chapter too.


	13. That's child's play!

Warning:

This chapter has some strong language.

* * *

**Clove's POV**

The awful taste in my mouth is gone, but I can still feel the smoke in my lungs and in my hair. I reek of smoke, and that is the closest thing between me and that District 12 bitch. I stand up quickly from the ground and am about to suggest we go look for that girl now, but my head suddenly starts to spin and I fall forward into Cato's arms.

"Take it easy," he says harshly. "You were just _dead_ for a little bit. Let your body take in the oxygen it needs first."

I nod, still leaning against his broad chest. He smells like smoke too. My fingers curl, taking a fistful of his shirt in my hands. I'm still really dizzy. I can't show it. I cannot show weakness. That is no way to get sponsors. I straighten up, ignoring my urge to vomit.

"Come on," I say weakly. "We…have to find that Katniss... girl."

"Are you sure, Clove?" asks Glimmer, stepping forward. "You still look pretty pale."

"I've always had a fair complexion. Deal with it."

Glimmer looks taken aback and crosses her arms. I ignore her girly disposition and start walking towards the scorched forest. There are a few fallen branches that are still on fire here and there, but otherwise safe.

"Alright, I guess we're going to look for the girl," says A.J. throwing two packs over her back. "Come on; let's give Lover Boy a little break."

Everyone carries a little more weight, still leaving Peeta with the bulk. We are all pretty beat up. Everyone's faces and kin are covered with ash and charred tree.

Glimmer's _perfect_ hair is singed a little bit, and her hands are burned a bit.

Marvel has lost most of his left pant leg, and he has blood trickling down the side of his face.

A.J. actually looks pretty alright except for one of her boots is partially melted at the sole. It smells terrible.

Cato's jacket has lost his sleeves and hood, and I don't see his spear anymore; only his sword hanging off of his belt. He must have lost it either running or carrying me. There are some singes in his pants too, revealing some 2nd degree looking burns.

I think I might be in the worst shape though. My jacket is completely ruined and my shirt is burned completely around my torso just above my naval, with minor burns everywhere. My boots are fine thankfully; my pants are in a bit better shape than Marvel's, though I suppose you could call them 'kapris' now. My left arm is burned at the shoulder, but that isn't too much of a problem seeing as though I throw with my right arm.

And of course Peeta looks perfect. I suppose that will make the fan girls drool over their television screens even more. Of course nothing will beat Finnick Odair's year. Those girls would gladly fight each other in their own arena to get five minutes with that guy.

"Did anyone hear any canons?" asks Glimmer, holding her silver bow gingerly, and occasionally switching hands because of her burns. "Maybe she's already dead."

"I doubt it," I say. I am not about to reveal my close encounter with that girl. I'm still steaming over my failure. Right there. She was right there!

Snap!

And there goes Marvel stepping on a scorched stick, snapping it two. We all glare at him, and then our attention is drawn to a swish through the trees. My eyes catch a long black braid and I take off running.

"It's her!" I call back. Cato is running beside me when I suddenly grow dizzy again and stagger, then stumble down onto my knees. Cato stops to check on me.

"Go after her!" I snap at him. Glimmer and A.J. rush past us.

"They have it covered," Cato says lowly, picking me up.

"Hey!" I protest, kicking and flailing. "Put me down!"

He does, but still holds onto me. Peeta and Marvel are still behind us, but eventually catch up to where Cato and I are standing.

"You guys go ahead," says Cato. "She's still a little lightheaded."

They nod and run after Glimmer and A.J. Peeta glances back at us suspiciously, but then turns to keep up with Marvel while holding all the supplies. I clench my head, taking a fistful of hair between my fingers. I still feel nauseas and the stench of smoke stings my lungs, eyes, and leaves a lingering aftertaste in my mouth. I stare at the ground, not daring to look up at Cato's gaze which I can feel drilling into the top of my head.

"Why did you save me, Cato?" I ask, breaking the silence. "You said you could have easily killed me." I finally look up. "This would have been the simplest solution, to leave me to suffocate in the forest fire. Why-"

Cato suddenly grabs me and crushes me to his chest, squeezing his arms around me. One arm is tightly woven around my waist, and the other cradling the back of my head. He buries his face into my hair and breathes in deeply before speaking.

"I was so scared," he whispers into my ear. "When I heard you screaming, all I could think of was getting to you. I thought you were dead! Clove…" He pulled away and held my face as he bore his gaze into my own eyes. "I thought I'd lost you. I'm so sorry. Curry, he told me to pull away from you, to let go of my feelings. But… I can't. I just can't. Clove, I care so much about you."

My breath is shallow. I stare at him in shock, mouth wide open. I'm nervous, so nervous.

"But you…I-I, how can you care so much? I mean we've just been fighting nonstop and I've been so cut off from you and…and… how could this possibly work Cato?" I'm rambling again, but I can't stop. "C-Cato, this can't work. One, if not both of us is going to die! I mean…yeah! How can this-"

Cato pulls my face forward and presses my lips to his urgently. There is no hesitation, no regret. He braids his fingers in to my hair and moves his other hand down to my waist, pulling me against his muscular frame. Every movement catches me off guard. I stiffen for a moment. But only a moment. I smile against his lips and shut everything out after one thought.

Let's give the audience a good show.

* * *

**Cato's POV**

Clove wraps her arms around my neck and pulls me down, kissing me deeper. Her movements are rushed, urgent; like there is only so much time we have left. Every brain cell not including those focussed on Clove shuts off and I kiss her more. For a moment, everything is complete bliss, but then my eyes fly open.

"The others!" I gasp, breathing hard. "They'll be wondering..."

"Let them wonder," says Clove, pulling me back down. For a moment, she kisses me for a little more, and then pulls away after a few pecks. A devilish smile curls on her lips and she pulls me along as she breaks into a sprint. I can just imagine the gasps and swoons going on at the Capitol. Who would have thought that the deadly Cato and ice queen Clove were in love?

Star-crossed lovers? Please, that's child's play.

We spot the others who have just skidded to a halt at the base of a tall tree. We must be the fastest in the group because they are all just now stopping and catching their breath. What are they doing?

I look up and see why?

"How's everything with you?" Katniss calls cheerfully from high up in the tree we stand under. Clove and I exchange glances of surprise and then glance back up.

"Well enough," I say, trying not to sound completely shocked. "Yourself?"

Katniss makes an "Eh" face and tilts her hand from side to side as a gesture.

"It's been a bit warm for my taste." Oh, har, har, _har_. "The air's better up here. Why don't you come on up?"

"Think I will," I say confidently. I feel a little better to see that she is in pretty bad shape herself, with her leg severely burned and her clothes scorched to a crisp. There's not much use for her coat except for the sleeves and hood.

I think I will, _with pleasure_, fire girl. I start to head for the base of the tree when Glimmer stops me and holds out her bow and arrows.

"Here, take this, Cato," she says, still sounding out of breath. She is the heaviest out of us all, but only in her hips and –well, chest.

"No," I say pushing away the bow. "I'll do better with my sword."

I pat the hilt at my side. I look around for any more suggestions. Marvel is leaning against his spear for support. A.J. looks completely composed; I suppose that is what comes from swimming 24/7. Peeta is polishing his knife with the edge of his shirt. I can only assume he's avoiding Katniss' gaze. Clove looks beaten up, but happy.

Wonder why!

I position myself on the biggest looking branches and start to climb. I can hear Katniss start to climb as well. At first, it is pretty simple, just knowing where to put your hands and feet, but then it starts to get harder. The branches are getting smaller and I can feel them start to splinter beneath my feet. I carefully try to take one more step and then I hear a loud snap.

I'm a goner. I start grabbing at the other branches that go flying past me as I crash down through the twigs and burnt leaves. I hit the ground hard, and for a moment, it feels like I've broken something, but I'm more angry than anything.

"God damn it!" I yell, standing up. "Freakin asshole tree! Shit f-"

I continue to let out every profanity I know and kick the tree, only making my foot hurt more. I'm furious. I turn to Glimmer and under my breath, I mutter, "Shoot her down."

Glimmer nods and slowly nocks and arrow onto the bow. She winces as she pulls it back, aiming up at Katniss. It is easy to tell it hurts her to hold the bow, but at this point, I just want to see that limp body fall through the tree branches.

Glimmer lets the arrow fly and it sticks into a completely different tree than Katniss'. She mumbles, "Sorry," very quietly, and slings the bow over her shoulder, blowing on her injured hands. Katniss is able to climb down and over to grab the arrow and get back to her original spot. It is getting dark, but through the dim twilight, I can see Katniss wave the arrow above her head, teasing us, mocking us.

She's asking for it. I turn back to everyone and motion to lower their voices.

"What are we going to do?" Clove whispers. "She's too high for anyone of us to climb up and get her ourselves. Glimmer can't shoot her with her hands like that. A spear is even more unreliable."

"Think there's a chance she'll just fall out in her sleep?" A.J. adds quietly, nonchalantly picking at her fingernails. We all groan and grumble out a few more thoughts, all useless and a waste of breath until Lover boy randomly speaks up.

"Oh, let her stay up there!" he snaps harshly, unrolling his sleeping bag. "It's not like she's going anywhere. We'll deal with her in the morning!"

We all give up and agree. We are all exhausted and ready to go to sleep ASAP. I take one last glance up at Katniss who is settling in a fork in the tree, tucking herself in for the night. Marvel builds a fire and Glimmer offers to watch the whole night so everyone can rest off the tiring day.

The crackling of the fire is soothing. I lay my sleeping bag next to Clove's, but not so close that the other careers get suspicious of a separate alliance. She is lying on her stomach, but she smiles at me as I lie down facing her, on my back. Her eyelids start to droop, slowly covering up the lovely violet, and just like that, her breathing is even, and she is asleep. I'm not far behind her.

* * *

**A/N**: *Passes out at the keyboard* As of right now it is 2:30 am and I was dying to finish this so I did. Yes it is longer than the normal chapters, but it was my favorite to write (so far, hehehe). Thanks for everyone's support and encouraging reviews. (I haven't got **one **bad review about this story, and I think that deserves a round of applause!) Jk, but thank you to everyone for sticking with me. Stay tuned for the next chapter!


	14. Wake up call

**Clove's POV**

I awake to the sound of a crash, but it sounds more like wood splintering. Almost immediately I hear a loud buzzing sound and then piercing stings start sticking into my body.

I am immediately awake. The pain shoots all over my body. I look around frantically. Glimmer is getting up suddenly from slouching against the tree. That bitch! She must have had the last shift! Thousands of giant bugs are swarming around.

"Run!" I yell. "To the lake! To the lake!"

Cato is pulling me up by my arm and dragging me away, and I can already see Peeta and Marvel high tailing it out of there. A.J. and Glimmer look as if they are trying to gather the supplies first, but I disappear through the brush before I can see if they have gotten anything. Frantically I try to pull out the stingers wherever I can reach. Most of them are on my back.

"Come on, run!" Cato yells, thrusting me in front of him. The swarm of what must be tracker jackers is still around us. I swat away one from my face, but not before it stings me on the forehead. There is still debris from the forest fire, making our escape even harder. I can only hear Cato's heavy footsteps behind me, and Peeta is far behind Marvel. Being the tallest, Marvel can leap over the fallen trees with one huge stride.

"Come on, Cato!" I yell back, offering my hand. He is too busy swatting away the tracker jackers to take my offer.

"Just run," he shouts. Suddenly I hear a canon. Someone is dead. It's most likely Katniss, since she was up the tree… Katniss! That bitch! She dropped that nest on us! Well hopefully that was her.

The lake opens up in front of us. Marvel dives right under, followed by Peeta. I don't dive, because that is a stupid decision, but I jump under as fast as I can. The stings on my skin burn in the water, but that probably means something good is happening. I hear another splash and look around to see Cato plunging into the water, his cheeks puffed out, and full of breath. I try to look above the surface to see if the tracker jackers are still above us, but it appears they have left. For some reason, Peeta has leapt out of the water before anyone else.

I burst through the surface, gulping a huge breath, followed by Cato and Marvel. Immediately another canon fires. I crawl out of the lake, the venom starting to work its poison on me. The trees are turning purple and starting to ripple, but I get to my feet, trying to catch up with Peeta, but I fall to my knees again. Cato gets out and kneels next to me.

"Get Lover Boy!" I hiss, falling on my side. "He's probably going to Katniss!"

From what I can see from his face, he looks suddenly furious. He takes a knife from my belt and clasps it in my already weak fingers.

"Stay awake," he says, but his voice is warped. I nod and push what I think is his chest, and tell him to move. Cato is starting to sprout fur now. The venom is starting to take me over. I'm going to die now. The last thing I see before I fall into the horrifying nightmares is a sandy colored wolf dashing through the purple trees and brush.

* * *

**Cato's POV**

I limp through the woods, most of the stings on my right leg and up my back, probably because I managed to get a bag to shield my left side, but my neck and ear is also stung. I'm starting to see weird things through my good eye since the sting below my right eye has swollen it shut. The grass is completely gone, melted into lava. I'm walking across lava. My feet are even starting to burn, but I have to keep going. I bite my tongue to keep me from going under and I burst through the brush. At first I just see Glimmer's swollen body, covered in yellow puss and rotting swiftly. But then my attention is brought back by a desperate cry.

"Run," cries Peeta, shoving Katniss along. "Run!"  
Katniss has already seen me and, clenching Glimmer's bow and arrows, sprints off. Although my senses are starting to go numb, I draw my sword and charge at Peeta.

"You traitor!" I yell, stabbing at him. He dodges at the last moment and draws his knife out. It's all I can do not to laugh.

"You're dead, Lover boy," I sneer. I try not to look hurt, though everything is numb except for the stings which are excruciating. I wince for a moment, but straighten the arm holding the sword and slash at him. Although he has a stocky build, Peeta can avoid being hit very well, but it's only when the venom starts to kick in with him that he starts to stumble and then falls, twisting forward onto his stomach.

"Oof!" he cries. I am about to bring my sword down when he rolls around and slashes at my calf, barely grazing the skin, but it still hurts on top of the stings. Suddenly, Peeta is starting to look green, and the stings on his body are starting to ooze green slime.

So are mine.

This has to be an illusion, but damn it I can't tell. He tries to stand up, but I swing my sword around and catch him in the leg, all the way down his left thigh, and a bit past his knee. He cries out and I kick him in what I think is his chest. Blood is spurting from his leg, but it's black. My brain feels as if it is about to burst my skull and splatter everywhere and if I'm feeling this bad…

"Clove," I whisper in a raspy voice, at least I think it's my voice. I could finish Peeta off right now though, but I've cut him to where he can bleed out.

Slowly.

I take one look at Peeta, writhing on the ground, clutching his leg; I kick him in the ribs hard.

"Bye, asshole," I mutter, then run in the straightest line I can manage when the ground beneath me is literally rippling as if someone threw a large rock into it like water. I slash my way aimlessly through the white trees which star to transform into red sand, pouring down on me and until I reach the lake again.

There is Clove, twitching uncontrollably in a fetal position. She's screaming at something, clawing at her arms. I stumble to her side and grab her wrists and tell her to calm down as calmly as I can, which is getting hard because she is starting to decompose in front of me. Her hair is falling out and her violet eyes are rolling back into their sockets. Just like Glimmer.

"No, no, no! Don't die, don't die!" I rasp. Just then I can see thousands of snakes slithering their way towards me. I try to slash at them, but the only things that come out are dirt and grass. They slither on top of me and encircle me their death grip. I can't breathe. I try to hold on to Clove, encircling her flailing, rotting body in my arms as one snake rolls around my eyes, blocking what vision I had. A horrid stench of burning flesh stings my nostrils and I am trying to scream to myself to stay awake, don't fall under.

Don't die!

It's only when I one of the larger snakes slithers up my already constricted torso and neck and slithers into my mouth, scratching my tongue and the insides of my cheeks with its scales, and then bites me right at the back of my mouth when I pass out from the pain.

* * *

**A/N:** Ok , for some reason the chapter I'm replacing this one with didn't have the devides in POV's, so sorry if that confused a few people. I corrected it and hope this doesn't make your brains explode from, "Wait, its _his_ Pov now?"


	15. I think we're all angry enough

**Clove's POV**

My entire body is aching, no not simply aching. It feels as if a layer of skin is being ripped away by a scalpel. I try to scream, but all I hear are an infant's squeals. The world before me is spinning and something has a vice grip around my waist. I look up to see an enormous bat, encircling me in its powerful wings. In its claws, it holds a long, bloody syringe. I scream again, trying to squirm my way out of its clutches.

The bat cackles, it high pitched shrieking hurting my ears so bad, I think they start to bleed because something warm starts oozing out of both of them and running down the sides of my face. The bat repeatedly stabs me in the arms, and from the punctures in my arms, thousands and thousands of spiders start crawling out of my skin.

"Help!" I try to call, but all that comes out now is a bird chirp. What the hell is going on!

Then I remember. The tracker jackers! Their venom is in my system, messing with my brain. How long is this going to last? When will I just die? Please just let me die!

But I don't, I keep writing in pain while the spiders crawl all over my body, and lay eggs to produce more spiders, but the eggs sink under my skin and start to burn. I try to scream again, but I know it's still useless once I hear a frog croak.

Cato, where is Cato? Is he going through as much pain as I am?

My vision suddenly goes black as the bat stabs my eyes out. Then, like a horrible nightmare, I begin to see visions of my loved ones.

My father is being hung at his own city hall gallows, flailing around, trying to escape.

My mother is walking around the Slums. She has multiple grocery bags full of food, and then people just appear from the shadows with clubs. A few even have guns. My mother tries to run, but they get a hold of her, teasing her, holding her while they go through her donation of food. She has a taser though, and she catches the smallest man in the throat, killing him. The rest of the gang proceeds to beat her to death while she cries for help. There has to be someone around, but no one answers.

Claud, my brother, is being reaped for the Games. Wait no, he's too old. He can't be reaped! Just as he steps up to the stage, the female tribute pulls out a bow and shoots him multiple times. The girl's hair lengthens and darkens, as does her skin.

Katniss! She killed my brother!

I wake up screaming, and it's my scream, my voice. I claw at my body, only to find the tracker jacker stings swelling up on my skin, no spiders. I feel my forehead where the one tracker jacker got me. It is the size of an orange, filled with puss. I feel like a balloon.

My vision is still hazy when I look around. It is in the middle of the day. Marvel is at the edge of the lake; nearly face down in the mud, the water lapping up at his swollen ankles. He must have been stung pretty bad in his legs.

I don't see Glimmer or A.J. around. Did they not make it to the lake? Were those two cannon shots signifying _their_ death and not Katniss?

"Oh, no," I gasp. My muscles are so sore, I had to have been out for a long time, and probably a good few days, but I can't diagnose that myself. Cato is stirring next to me, just as swollen, if not more swollen than me. He has had his arms tightly around my waist the whole time it seems because my ribs are sore when he rolls away, clutching his head.

"Cato," I say softly, putting my hand on whatever part of his shoulder. His entire left side looks fine. It's his right side that is swollen. His dirt covered face is streaked with dried tears. Why was he crying? Was it from sheer pain, or was he shown visions of his loved ones being tortured and killed?

"C-Clove," he rasps, suddenly wrapping me in his arms. "Oh God, you're alright!"

"Ow, ow, ow," I say. "Cato, that hurts."

He let's go, remembering that what had happened. Marvel is coming to as well.

"Holy shit," he moans, rolling over on his back. "What the hell happened?"

We are all drenched to the bone in what is either sweat of some rain that came while we were out.

"Where's Glimmer?" asks Marvel. When neither Cato nor I answer, he cranes he neck to look at us.

"Where is she?" he asks again. I frown and shake my head.

"I don't know Marvel," I reply. "I don't know where A.J. is either, but before the venom knocked me out I heard two cannons."

"One of them could have been Katniss," says Marvel, sitting up suddenly. "And the other could have been Lover boy. I don't see him either."

"They're not dead, so far as I am aware," says Cato. "The cannons went off before I even got to Peeta. And when I got there, he was pushing Katniss away, telling her to run. He betrayed us…and Marvel… I saw Glimmer. It could have been an illusion, but she didn't look like she was getting up. She looked worse than any of us. I mean, one of them could be Peeta. I took him out right after Katniss got away."

"And you're sure you killed him?" Marvel asks.

"Well, not exactly. I didn't initially kill him. But I cut him pretty bad. And I know where I cut him. If I didn't get the femoral artery, he will still bleed out pretty fast anyway."

Marvel's face contorts in pain and disbelief, and he looks down at the ground.

"But that doesn't mean _Glimmer's_ dead," he says.

"She is."

A random voice startles us all. We reach for our weapons that are still with us. There is a rustle in the bushes behind us, and we try to stand up, but I'm the first to collapse, my head spinning. Cato falls to his knees, and I hear a loud splash behind me, probably Marvel.

"Who's there?" Cato demands. The scrawny boy from District 3 emerges from the foliage, emaciated and dirty. His skin is almost grey and his ashen blonde hair is tangled with twigs and leaves.

"Don't attack!" he says shakily. "Listen to me. Those two girls, 1 and 4? They're dead. Their faces appeared in the sky two days ago."

"Two days!" Cato and I exclaim. The boy nods.

"So Lover boy is still alive," Marvel says flatly.

"And while you've been out, tributes have been able to steal some of your supplies, little by little. I've seen that girl from 5 repeatedly steal from your food. She's really quiet, but there was that crippled boy from 10 who crashed his way into your camp and then limped back out. He was making a lot of noise too."

I am suddenly furious. Those puny tributes came in and stole _our_ supplies? I want to rip their hearts out. But most off all, I want to find Katniss. Oh, I want to so desperately to find her. The audience would definitely get a good show when I get my hands on her!

"But wait!" the boy from 3 exclaims, holding his hands up in defense. "I can help with that! I can help you protect your supplies!"

"How the hell can a scrawny shrimp like you protect the supplies?" says Marvel, his voice a little shaky. He must still be accepting his partner is dead. Glimmer was never really a contender in these Games to begin with. I'm almost thankful she is dead, but that is a bit cruel. Then again, these are the Hunger Games. Cruelty is almost a requirement.

"You know the plates we stood on at the beginning of the Games?" the boy continues. "Well they've been deactivated. If you can help me retrieve them, I can reactivate them and place them around the food. Anyone who steps on them will be blown sky high. Just let me in your group with access to whatever I need and I'll make sure no thief can get to your food."

Oh yea, District 3 is technology and electronics. It sounds like a good idea. It would certainly be a first.

"Alright, boy," says Cato, sheathing his sword. "We'll give you a shot. What's your name?"

"Herman."

* * *

**Cato's POV**

I almost laugh at the boy from 3's name. Herman? That poor kid. Oh well.

"Alright," I say again. "Let's go get those plates. The Cornucopia is right over there anyway."

It's true; the lake is very close to the Cornucopia. If any tribute tries to come back, seeking supplies, or even shelter in the horn, they're dead.

In a matter of about an hour, Herman has all the plates up and neatly stacked in a pile. For the next _two _hours, we all stand guard while Herman reactivates the explosives in the plates. Clove sits with me on a rock by the lake while Marvel is off by himself, standing with his legs slightly parted, staring off into the forest.

"He certainly took Glimmer's death a little hard," says Clove, leaning back against the boulder. "He's worse than A.J. was."

"Yea, but I doubt Marvel had any feelings for Glimmer," I say flatly. Clove turns to me in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean look at us Clove. What's going to happen if it gets down to a handful of us?"

I can tell she already knows what I'm trying to say. One of us is going to have to die. We can't both make it back. Her face droops in a frown and she looks at the ground.

"Yea I know," she says half-heartedly. "But what-"

"I'm done!" cries Herman. "So you're sure the food is in the right places? That's where you want it?"

"As long as we know where to step to get to it," I call back. Herman calls us all over and shows us where to step in order to get to the food.

"Now do _not_ step anywhere else, you hear me?" he says harshly, which is kind of funny because he hasn't even hit puberty yet, so his voice is still a bit scratchy. He can't be more than fourteen, maybe fifteen.

"Very nice," says Clove, crossing her arms. "So you sure this is a good idea? What if someone steps on a mine though? Will any of the food be damaged?"

"Well the plates are pressure activated, so one explosion shouldn't set off another one."

I can tell Clove is a little skeptical about this. She takes a few steps towards some of our food and stuffs a good amount in her bag.

"You're not going to have much room for weapons," says Marvel, who we all know has about a dozen weapons in his own bag.

"Because they're on my belt, smarty," Clove retorts, patting her belt, and then opens her jacket. "And in here."

The rest of the afternoon we spend trying to recuperate, forcing ourselves to down some water and food. Herman says he will keep guard while we hunt, but we don't let him. The mines will protect our supplies.

We hunt through the night, Clove and I using the night vision glasses. Herman has a flashlight and Marvel lights a torch. I think Herman is really the only one who is truly suffering from the all-nighter since all three of us careers were out for two solid days.

"I still can't believe that one kid from 10 is still alive," Marvel whispers. "You'd think that leg would have slowed him down from the start."

"Adrenaline rush probably," I point out. "Doesn't matter if you're hurt. Once it starts, there's not much that can stop you."

Marvel still doesn't seem to get it, and I roll my eyes. I am so thankful that I was not raised in District 1 where all they learn about are shiny crap and how to make the life in the Capitol more comfortable. District 2's research is actually worth something.

Light from the morning is starting to peak over the horizon. I almost don't need the glasses anymore. I am about to take them off when Clove puts a finger to her lips to hush everyone.

"Put out your torch," she whispers. "Turn off your flashlight."

Herman and Marvel obey and I look around, my vision perfect, even enhanced with the glasses. Did Clove see someone? I see a rustle in the bushes about ten yards away, and then the boy from 10 starts limping away, probably thinking that we can't see him.

Oh contraire, my friend. Clove takes out one of her longer knives with a perfect throwing handle and sends it whistling through the air right into the back of the boy's neck. There is a disgusting choking noise as he falls to the ground, and then the cannon shoots. Herman turns on his flashlight and shines it on the corpse of the boy, lying in a puddle of blood which was slowly soaking into the earth.

"Oh my," he gasps, and then covers his mouth in disgust.

"Good shot, Clove," says Marvel, holding his hand up. She slaps his in triumph.

"That takes care of him," I say. "I'm hungry. Let's go back to camp."

We fill our bellies, fully convinced none of our food has been touched. I rather like the way Herman arranged the supplies, piling some of it up, and then scattering some more around the pyramid, making it a bit of a make shift Cornucopia. Of course, if anyone tries to get a hold of anything they'll be blown to bits.

I am about to relax back against a rock when I see a plume of smoke rising from the forest.

"Hey!" I shout, pointing at the pillar. "Look, guys look!"

Everyone turns and sees the smoke. Marvel and I start to arm ourselves but Clove is still skeptical.

"It's too easy," she says. "That is a pretty strong pillar of smoke. Only an idiot would put that many greens on fire, and I think we eliminated the last idiot this morning."

"You're over thinking this, Clove," I say, just itching to get my fingers around Katniss' neck. "Come on Herman, get your spear."

"We don't need to bring him!" Clove protests. "I think it's a trap. Maybe they've seen our supplies and know a way to get around it and steal it. We should leave someone behind."

I roll me eyes and pull Herman up from his rock.

"He's coming. We need him in the woods, and his job's done here anyway. No one can touch those supplies."

There's a moment of silence until Marvel speaks up.

"What about Lover boy?" he asks.

"I keep telling you, forget about him. I know where I cut him. It's a miracle he hasn't bled to death yet." I sigh in frustration. "At any rate, he's in no shape to raid us."

Everything is quiet for a moment. I am starting to get impatient.

"Come on!" I say, shoving a spear into Herman's grasp. "When we find _her,_ I kill her I my own way, and no one interferes."

I see a bit of disappointment in Clove's eyes right before I turn and run into the forest. I don't have to look back though, to know that everyone is following me.

I'm coming District 12.

* * *

**A/N: **Hey guys. Long time no see...not really but anyway. I got a comment about my last chapter saying it was a bit of a filler, so I decided to lengthen this one a bit...hehe a bit... Anyway, hope you keep reading!


	16. Nothing burns quite like supplies

**Clove's POV**

Cato is rushing through the woods, sword drawn; he makes a bee line towards the heavy plume of smoke that rises from the treetops. I am right behind him, Marvel at my side, his long strides equaling two of mine, and four of Herman's because he is so small. He struggles to keep up with us. I'm tempted to ask if this is goose chase is really worth it. Would Katniss really be this stupid to light a fire that would produce this much smoke?

But I don't ask. I just run.

Twigs snap beneath our careless feet. Cato isn't taking any precautions to be discreet. He just wants to charge Katniss. No surprises, no tricks, just brawn and speed. It's reckless, and it's stupid.

And it's just like Cato to do something like this. After all, these are the Games. Sneak attacks are not nearly as climactic as a full on war charge.

"My legs feel like jelly," says Herman in a whiny tone. "Can't we rest for a moment?"

"No!" Cato shouts back. His fingers squeak over the leather grip of his sword in an even tighter grasp. I can't see the smoke anymore. That must mean we're getting close, right under it. I pull three knives, adjusting them so they sit comfortably in my hand and can leave my fingers whenever I want them to. We come up to the camp fire. It's completely vacant. Cato's shoulders stiffen and when I catch up to his side, I can see his face and neck are turning beet red with rage.

"Augh!" he yells, kicking the fire. I rush over to the wild embers and stomp them out.

"Are you crazy?" I snap. "Do you want to get caught in _another_ fire, you moron?"

Cato's eyebrows furrow in anger and his lips press into a tight tense line. The leather grip of his sword squeaks again and his knuckles grow white with tension.

"Clove," he says through his teeth. "Just be quiet."

I am about to just say no and comment on his failure to manage is anger, when his eyes suddenly brighten as they look beyond me. Without saying a word, he takes off running, surprisingly careful not to shoulder me as he passes.

"Cato!" I yell, whirling around to see what he's running towards. Another plume of smoke rises even further into the woods.

"Should we follow him?" asks Marvel, leaning on his spear casually. "Personally I think there's something fishy going on with the fire."

"I concur," says Herman. "The strategically spaced the fires and the time it took in between to light each, statistically, would signify a purposefully planned pattern. Therefore-"

"Ok, Herman?" I add. "Shut up."

The boy lowers his gaze in embarrassment and shame, clutching his spear a little tighter. I sigh and roll my eyes, and then take off after Cato.

"Come on!" I yell back. "We have to make sure he doesn't kill himself."

It's not long after I catch up to him at another vacant campfire, throwing another mini fit.

"What the hell is going on?" he demands the ground, kicking the logs on the fire, followed by me furiously trying to put the fire out.

"Stop that!" I say. "You're going to set the forest on fire again."

"Maybe I want that," says Cato. "Maybe I want to burn her alive."

"Along with us?" I retort.

"No but-"

His voice stops abruptly as a rustle in the trees draws our attention. Everyone's gaze shoots up towards a nearby pine. At first I don't see anything, but then there is another rustle, and the little girl from 11, Rue I think is her name, goes leaping through the trees and out of sight before any of us can say or do anything. I don't have to look around to know that everyone's jaws are dropped to their chest in awe. Who knew that scrawny little twig could fly through the trees like that?

"What the-"

I am cut off by an enormous explosion that violently shakes the ground. As soon as Herman catches up with Marvel, he trips over his vibrating feet, going face first into the dirt. The boom is deafening and I end up taking the heels of my hands and smashing them against my ears, trying to block the noise while holding knives in each hand. When the noise of the explosion dies down Marvel speaks up first.

"Alright," he says casually. "Let me be the first to say _what the hell was that?_"

"That had to have been the plates!" cries Herman. "It worked! It worked!"

Cato grins, shoves past Herman and then takes off running in the other direction. I groan again.

"Cato!" I yell, but it's hopeless. Unlike everyone else, I fear the worst and follow Cato once more. There are two explanations for this. One, the Gamemakers planted something in the arena to make that magnitude of an explosion. Two, Herman's trap worked. The latter is most likely.

I hear three more explosions and run faster.

* * *

**Cato's POV**

Before I burst through the trees to the open land before the lake, I can already smell the smoke and burnt – burnt whatever. I slash through the last of the branches and find myself standing over a field of black and grey, ash raining from the sky. Our camp is nowhere to be seen, only smoldering halves of barrels and scorched items that had been scattered along the edges of the trap.

"Oh my god!" Clove exclaims horrified after barreling onto the open land. I feel every kind of anger rush through me: Rage, fury, madness, ire, rabidity, pure liquid wrath boils in my blood and I scan the charred land once more and completely lose it.

I scream towards the sky and kick a stray chunk of something that just disintegrates into ash when the impact of my foot meets its carbon surface. I over estimate the distance of that object and tumble to my knees, where upon I beat the earth in a frenzy, throwing every swear word I know in every direction.

"Damnit!" I scream, prolonging the vowels. My voice echoes across the arena for miles. I continue to scream and grab at my hair, taking a fistful through my fingers. I pull so hard I nearly rip it right out of my scalp. Clove seems to be trying to calm me down. She falls to her knees in front of me and grabs my shoulders hard.

"Cato," she says softly. "Cato, look at me! Calm down."

Impulsively I push her away, so hard she falls backwards in surprise. I don't even glance at her to see if she is alright, I immediately leap to my feet and begin to kick and hit any piece of burned supplies I can find. Then I seek out Herman who has by now seen my rage directed at him.

"You idiot little bastard!" I yell at the top of my lungs. "You've destroyed all of our food, our weapons, everything!"

I kick another burned chunk of what used to be a crate and then I pick up a hunk of charred wood and throw it at him. He turns to run but he won't get out that easily. I catch him from behind and firmly grip his hair in one hand, wrapping my arm below his neck and placing the other hand firmly on the other side of his face.

"No," he begs, clawing at my skin. "No, please-"

One quick twist of my arms and his cries for help are silenced. His body goes limp in my grasp and I let him drop lifelessly to the ground in a heap. I'm still breathing raggedly with rage and fury. I need something else to kill. I need to hit something, stab something, anything!

Clove and Marvel rush over to me as soon as I've let Herman's body fall and grab me, Marvel on my arms, and Clove's hands clasped around my face.

"Cato, look at me!" she demands, her violet eyes harsh with worry. "Calm down!"

"No!" I shout in her face. "We have to go back in there! I want to find her! We have to find her! She's going to pay!"  
She suddenly smacks me and then points to the sky.

"Idiot! Whoever set off this explosion has to have been killed," she says calmly. "Think about it. Yes the trap worked a little too well, but it worked. Their canon probably went off during one of the later explosions. Just… just calm down, Cato, please."

"Yea, man, no use wasting your energy on something you can't control," says Marvel, which is honestly the smartest thing I've heard him say throughout all the Games. I try to take deeper breaths and calm down, placing my big hands over Clove's tiny pair, still clasped to my face. After about five minutes, Marvel's grip loosens and he let's go of me, but Clove is still looking at me intently, searching for any hint of fury that might have been left behind.

"I'm still angry as hell, Clove," I say, taking her hands off my face. "I just want to sleep. Come on." I readjust the pack over my shoulder and start walking along the shore of the lake. "We should move if we want the Gamemakers to get District 3's body before it starts to stink."

We retire to the other side of the lake, furthest from the Cornucopia. Night has fallen, and the Capitol seal appears in the sky, followed by the anthem. Herman's face appears in the sky and then is replaced by the crippled boy from District 10 that Clove killed. Then the seal appears again and the sky goes black. I suddenly feel a restraining hand clasping mine. I know it's Clove, and I know she knows that I'm about to get angry again.

"That's it?" I say through my teeth. "That can't be it!" I turn to Clove. "I thought you said whoever set off the explosion would be dead!"

"I didn't guarantee it!" says Clove. "What, are you going to snap my neck now?"

"Whatever," I mutter, standing up. "Alright, everyone up. We're going hunting _now._"

Clove looks as if she is about to question my methods, but then she gets this grim look of determination on her face. She slips the night vision glasses on and says, "Let's go."

I do the same and Marvel lights a tree branch.

"She probably has a good hour ahead of us at least," says Marvel, leaning knocking the dirt off of the soles of his shoes with the shaft of his spear. "Think we can find her?"

"If we split up maybe," I suggest. I can already feel the pang of hunger in my stomach and I know I'm in trouble. I don't say anything though. That could show weakness and that's not what the leader of this career pack can afford to have.

"That sounds doable," says Clove. "We are all strong enough to take on any of the remaining tributes."

"Ha!" Marvel bellows. "I think you're forgetting Thresh."

This puts an expression of doubt on Clove's face. She glances at me, but then clenches her jaw and pastes her determined look back on.

"I can throw fast, and I never miss," she says. "I don't need to get close to him to kill him."

So we resolve to split up, Clove has resolved to try the east part of the forest, and Marvel the center. That leaves the farthest western part for yours truly. As I walk alone, I find myself switching my sword from one hand to the other out of habit. I can fight with both my left and right hand perfectly. Other districts wouldn't understand the phrase 'ambidextrous', but we hear it a lot back in our medical district.

I try to mentally go through my pack of supplies: Five knives, a small hatchet, a lighter, a blade sharpener, a canteen half full of water, and two packs of iodine.

I also have one food packet in which it contains roasted beef in gravy, meat pate, whole wheat crackers, and quick-cooking polenta in cheese sauce, or at least that is what it says on the box. Although the food pack is a good amount, it won't last me until the end of the Games unless everyone dies today, which is unlikely.

I continue to comb the forest until the wee hours of the morning, and through the day. There are a few animals here and there. I debate whether I should kill one for later or not. I was never really trained to hunt animals, just humans, but what can the difference be really?

I don't try to hunt right now though. I'll wait until I consult the others about food. I know Clove stuffed her bag to the brim with food. She was truly smart to do that. Now she's better off than either Marvel or me who just have mostly weapons. And Marvel has more weapons than either of us.

"He'll probably be the first to starve," I say to myself, looking up at the midday sky.

* * *

**A/N**: Hey guys! I'm having so much fun writing this story, and I love your feedback. (If anyone realized that Marvel's line "Alright, let me be the first to say _what the hell was that?_" was a quote from the TV series, Angel, you get 1000 golden stars)

Keep on readin!


	17. Amazing what a rock can do

**Clove's POV**

I have lost sight of anyone else, even Marvel who should be the closest to me. The only noises I hear are my own footsteps and sounds of nature. I get the urge to twirl one of my knives around my finger, but decide against it, seeing as it might attract attention. I want to hum something too, but here in the Games you have to be so vigilant of your surroundings, and while doing that, give a show for the cameras.

I put a confident smirk on my face to let the audience think I have a trail. Truly, I have no idea where I'm going. Katniss could be parked up in any tree, and the little girl Rue could be watching me now, blending in to the trees, something Katniss couldn't do, which is good since I only want to find Katniss. Rue shouldn't be hard to finish off when it comes down to a handful of us. I count on my fingers who's left.

There is Marvel, Cato, me, Katniss, Rue, and that girl from 5 who I haven't seen these entire… two weeks?

How long have I been in the arena? I lost count of the days. I've been eating enough up until now, so I can't really tell by how hungry I am. And there isn't any calendar or anything to tell the day or even the time, but the sun can tell me that.

I've hunted into the late of the night, the full moon overhead, so it must be midnight. I give into fatigue and find a good bundle of brush to bury myself under for a few hours. I have a thin but very warm sleeping bag in my pack which I do not hesitate to crawl into and stuff some scattered pine needles under the head for cushion.

"I can't sleep long," I whisper to myself. "Can't… sleep…"

I doze off before I know it.

I wake suddenly to the sound of a large crunch. It was either a really big foot or a very dry branch. I am on my stomach, which allows me to prop myself up to look around. I am pretty confident I am well concealed, but I try to stay as still as possible.

Through the thick brush I can see tall muscular legs under the brown pants the tributes wear, which at first look like Cato's but then I realize they are much taller, and the big arm that is carrying a large rock is very darkened, pretty much brown.

Thresh. I forgot about him before.

He seems to have noticed his loudness in step and is creeping along very slowly. The rock in his big meaty hand is even bigger; I'm surprised he can carry it, but then I see he has it propped against his waist as he walks. What is he doing? Is he hunting for someone?

He suddenly takes a few weird looking steps and then hurls the rock. It comes in contact with something and then I hear a thud as the something falls into the leaves. My eyes follow him as he walks away for a bit and then walks back holding the rock again, but now he's dragging the body of a doe with his other arm. It takes all of my will power not to gasp. He stops for a moment to hoist the doe over his shoulder. Suddenly a bunch of birds start singing this four note melody over and over; this catches Thresh's attention.

"Rue?" he says softly. His voice is deep and husky, but he sounds deeply confused.

He is about to walk away when faint scream, so far away I can barely hear it, but it catches both Thresh's and my ears. By now, Thresh is in a clearing in the bushes where I can see him. His hard face stares in the direction of the scream.

We hear it again. It is calling someone's name, but it's so far away I can't even tell who it belongs to. We continue to hear it over and over again, and then another voice joins in, slightly deeper but definitely feminine. Thresh doesn't move.

For a while there is silence, but then a canon goes off and I nearly jump out of the bush from the loud shot. I clamp my hand over my mouth, hoping Thresh won't see me. All that ranting I did about being able to hit him won't do me any good while I'm lying down.

"Rue," Thresh says, almost painfully.

For some reason a whole bunch of birds start singing again.

It's not like the simple four notes. It is literally a melody of a song. It doesn't sound familiar, but with all the birds singing at different times, it forms together beautiful harmonies.

Another canon goes off and Thresh purses his lips together, as if he is trying to piece something together, or make a decision. He repositions the doe limply over his shoulder once more and then hesitantly turns and walks away.

It takes a while for his footsteps to fade into silence, but even then I don't move until I am sure he is completely gone.

"Get to camp," I whisper to myself. "To camp."

I scramble out of the bushes, not even bothering to organize my sleeping bag. I just stuff it in one of the larger pockets and high tail it out of this danger zone.

If Thresh can take down a dear with a freaking rock, what could he do to a simple human skull?

I then start to think about those two canons I heard. There are a number of explanations for that. One that Lover boy finally keeled over and kicked the bucket. Two, Cato or Marvel found Katniss, Rue, or even that girl from 5. Three, the arena took _someone_, out, maybe even Cato or Marvel. My pace quickens towards camp.

"Please let it not it be Cato," I say between breaths. "Please, please, please not Cato."

But then my mind starts running on the fact that it might not be completely bad if Cato died. After all, we can't both win. And I don't want to kill him. But I can't even say goodbye? The thought of one of us not being able to make it out drills a heavy pain in my heart and stomach, so I try to push it out of my mind. It won't go away, and eventually I start to feel sick so I stop to lean against a tree for rest. I force myself to take a few sips of water before I puke.

I lean against the tree and smile, hoping that will at least confuse the audience, diverting them away from the fact that I am worried, tired, and on the brink of crying from the thought of losing Cato. I pull up the hood of my jacket and lean forward to let out a few silence chokes and then take a deep breath.

"Just breathe," I say. "That's the key to running. Breathe."

I pop my neck and jog in place for a moment before taking off again towards the lake.

* * *

**Cato's POV**

I sit at the camp, waiting for either Marvel or Clove to show up. If not, I will be waiting to see their faces in the sky. My heart is heavy with the fact of seeing Clove in the sky. I rub my hand all over my face and then through my hair, massaging the back of my scalp. The ashes of the previous camp are still smoking a little across the lake. Just looking at them makes me angry, so I prop myself against a tree trunk and look up at the sky. There aren't even any clouds in the Games, except of course when there are huge storms.

And when the storms come, they come hard. I remember when one tribute was struck by lightning in one of the Games. No, actually, two were struck in one day. The entire arena was filled with scattered thunderstorms and violent rains and hails. It was brutal, but the fights were epic.

Drenched in rain and blood.

That was a good year. In fact, I think that was the year our victor, Brutus won. He faced off a brutish guy from 6, but he slipped in a mud puddle and Brutus simply had to hurl down his spiked club onto the kid and he was finished. I think he mentored my Uncle Curry too.

It's getting late, but as the sun starts to set under the horizon, Clove bursts through the trees, hauling ass over to camp. I stand up and she flings herself into my arms quite unexpectedly. I nearly fall backwards from her impact.

"You're alive," she breathes out, squeezing me tightly. I impulsively stroke her hair and say, "I'm fine."

"Well I heard the canons and I didn't know who they were," she says. "I didn't kill anyone." She raises her eyes to mine. "Did you?"

"Nope," I say, shaking my head. "I didn't see anything, or anyone for that matter."

Clove steps back a little and looks across the lake.

"Marvel isn't back," she says quietly. "Do you think he might have found someone?"

"Or someone found him," I add. "He might have run into Thresh or Lover _Girl_."

Clove doesn't respond.

"What?" I say after a moment, noticing how still she is. "Clove?"

"_I_ ran into Thresh," she replies so quietly that I can barely hear her.

"You what?"

"I was hiding in some bushes and he walked by. He killed a dear with just a rock and his arms. It was crazy. That was when I heard the two canons. He didn't kill either of them."

I think about who it might have been then. Neither, Clove, Thresh, nor I killed anyone. That leaves Marvel, Katniss, the girl from 11, and the girl from 5. Peeta doesn't really count; one of those canons could have been him finally dying.

Clove and I decide upon waiting until the faces appear in the sky. The temperature is dropping quickly and Clove is starting to shiver so we both crawl into a sleeping bag together.

"I'll keep watch first," I say, playing with her hair. It comes so naturally to me, stroking her skin, letting her dark blonde locks slip through my fingers. The audience must be eating this up. To know there is more than one pair of lovers in this arena.

The Capitol anthem makes both of us jump and we look anxiously up into the sky for the faces of the fallen today.

I can feel my jaw drop to my chest as Marvel's face shows up first, and then the girl from 11.

"What?" says Clove. "Who killed him? I mean, anything could have gotten Rue, but-"

She stops abruptly and sits up in the sleeping bag.

"Katniss," she hisses. "That bitch! She had to have killed him! I bet Marvel killed Rue! Thresh recognized her scream. That must have been her." She looks down at me. "It makes sense, doesn't it?"

I shrug.

"Makes sense," I say. "I honestly figured Marvel would die of starvation first."

"I guess not."

Clove lies back down and curls in her head against my chest.

"Cato," she whispers. "What are we going to do if it comes down to just us?"

My heart drops. I've tried not to think about that, but there really is no avoiding it.

"I don't know," I say back, wrapping my arms around her. "I really don't know."

"I think in the morning," she says, her voice starting to break, "I should leave."

I stare down at the top of her head. She sniffs as if crying and I hold her chin to tilt her face up towards mine. She's not crying, but she's close to it. I can see in her eyes that she is dead serious. I don't know how I could possibly think of anything better, so I say the only thing that comes to mind.

"Is that what you really want?"

"No, Cato, it's not what I want," she says. "I want us both to be able to go home. I don't want to go home alone."

Same here.

Clove takes fistfuls of my shirt in her hands and buries her face once more. I hold her tightly, waiting for her to come back out and kiss me or something, but she doesn't. I suppose she is just trying to pull away, make it less painful.

But being in each other's arms under the twinkling stars isn't helping.

* * *

**A/N:** _!_ I loved Mockingjay so much but they revealed what District 2's faction really was, Weapons manufacturing! This sucks, now my story is inaccurate. This makes me mad, but I hope I don't lose fans because of this... I won't will I?


	18. Screw the audience

**Note: **This chapter has a bit more mature content in it (if you even want to call it that).

* * *

**Cato's POV**

I wake and it is late into the afternoon. We slept through the entire night and next day, and we're both alive. That's actually a big shocker. But it was probably the most peaceful sleep I've had in a long time.

I don't stir. I don't want to wake Clove. I don't want to bring her to the sickening realization again.

We can't stay together.

I don't know if I can call it breaking up, or what, but it's painful none the less, so I just stay as still as possible, holding Clove's beat up body to my chest, hoping the sound of my heartbeat will keep her asleep.

I think of how her being in the Games with me has affected everything. If she weren't here, I just might have taken out my fellow district tribute already, depending on the person. I wouldn't be so confused that my brain hurt about the outcome of the Games. Who the victor would be? How life would go on. I've had a couple of girlfriends, but no one like Clove.

There's just something about her that stands out. Maybe it's the fact that the kind of girls that I dated hated Clove. Hence the reason no one volunteered for her. Usually people don't even wait for Orvo to finish the name before they volunteer.

"Mm-Cato?"

Clove's groggy voice is muffled in my dirty shirt. Her arms have been tucked up resting on my chest, and now take a light fistful of the fabric in each hand, as if she can't bear to let go.

I sure can't.

And I don't know what to say to her so I simply say the first logical thing that comes to mind.

"Afternoon," I manage to get out. Clove raises her head towards me and gives a hollow smile, sadness pasted over her eyes.

"Hey," she whispers faintly. I don't even smile, even if it would make her feel better, I can't bring myself to smile. I wonder what the audience back home is thinking right now. Do they think me weak? Or do they sympathize with our relationship, wishing there was some way, some way we could make it out?

I sit up and unzip us from the sleeping bag, the zipper like a knife digging into my fingers. Clove sits up and rubs the back of her head sleepily, ruffling her dark blonde hair. I think it's gotten darker since we left District 2. Might be the stylist's doing. For once, I am missing Ursula and her crazy team.

"So," she says slowly, yawning at the same time. "Should we split the supplies?"

I nod silently. My tongue feels like sandpaper. This is all so painful. I wince every time I place something in her bag, that is, whatever is left of what we have. Damn Herman and his booby traps.

"Do you have enough food?" asks Clove, taking my pack and searching through it. She frowns and opens her pack to take out some of her food and without even saying a word, stuffs two meal packs in my largest pocket and zips it back up.

"What about-"

"I have enough food, Cato," she says dully. "I got a good amount to last me a while. I'll just- I'll hunt when I run out of food."

Does Clove even know how to hunt?

No use arguing it now. By now, the sun looks as if it is balancing on the horizon, trying not to sink below the greenery.

"Think anyone died while we were asleep?" says Clove, looking at the ground. I shrug and notice that she hasn't really made eye contact with me at all. Of course I understand, just trying to rip the bandage off quickly and as painlessly as possible.

"I should go now," she says, her voice breaking once. "Before I'll have to use these."

She holds up the night vision glasses. She's about to cry. I know it, but she's being tough about it. Again, I understand.

"M'k," I mutter. Clove still doesn't look at me, but thrusts out her hand for me to shake, and I do, lingering for a while. She's the one to wrench away and nonchalantly runs her hand across her face, as if to wake herself up, but I know it is to wipe the tears away.

"See ya," she whispers, and then walks past me, following the line of the lake to the other side, in the direction of the charred supplies site.

"Bye," I mutter, knowing she's too far away to hear. I watch her walk away. She doesn't look back or slow down. She continues a steady pace around the lake. The sun is almost down and I am having a hard time making out her tiny silhouette in the distance, but I am determined to watch her leave until she is completely out of sight, out of mind, and out of my life.

The Capitol seal appears in the sky, and I place my glasses in front of my eyes to see for a moment that Clove is pretty much on the other side of the lake, but she's stopped to see if there were any deaths today.

And there are none. She starts to walk again when a symphony of trumpets begins to blast throughout the arena. She double-takes to the sky and I myself take off my glasses to see what has happened. Usually the trumpets signify something hugely important to us tributes such as the calling for the Feast, but this time it isn't.

"Good evening, remaining tributes!" Claudius Templesmith's voice booms out. "I trust you are all interested in this important announcement. No, this isn't the Feast. There has been a change in the rules!"

My jaw drops to my chest. There's never been a rule change. Come to think of it, there aren't any rules to speak of, other than survive. I cup my ears to the voice just so I can get every detail. This is big, Games history big.

"Under the new rule," Claudius continues, "both tributes from the same district will be declared winners if they are the last two alive." There is a pause and then again. "Under the new rule, both tributes from the same district will be declared winners if they are the last two alive!"

Oh my god. This is it! This is what I've been wanting the whole time. I put on my glasses and see Clove still staring up at the sky, even after everything goes dark.

"Clove!" I call out loudly.

Almost immediately after, I hear a tiny voice off in the distance, as if an echo of mine, but not. It's higher, more feminine. Probably Katniss just now is realizing what the rule change means to her and Lover boy. I ignore the voice. To me, it means the world.

"Clove!" I call out again. She finally looks at me, but I can't see her face. She's too far away, so I bolt. I mean, I run, high tail it, haul ass, whatever, I am running.

Clove slowly starts walking, and then jogging, and then she flings her pack to the side and starts sprinting my way. I get the same idea and throw off my bag, giving me an easier time. It takes less than half the time it took for her to leave than for us to meet in the middle.

"Cato!" she yells, nearing me. I hold out my arms for her and she flings herself at me, nearly knocking me over. Her arms are tightly woven around my neck and she buries her head in the cook of my shoulder and neck, a muffled cry coming from her lips. At first it really sounds like crying. But, no, that's not it.

She's laughing. I smile from ear to ear and hold her so tightly that I pick her off the ground. I'm overcome with so much happiness I just start spinning, causing Clove to laugh even harder. She flings her head back and laughs at the stars, still clinging to my neck.

I don't see where I'm spinning and step into the lake for a moment. Startled by the cold water, I lose balance and fall on my back. We both give a hefty, "oof!" upon landing on the hard ground and then our laughter subsides.

Clove doesn't miss a beat and brings her lips down hard on mine, holding my hair in one fist as the other supports herself slightly over me. I clasp her tiny waste, where her shirt is burned off, and leaving fair smooth skin, despite the hardships. My callused fingers caress the small of her back as we continue to kiss under the light of the half-moon. We both kiss each other as if we haven't seen each other in years, decades. It sure feels like it.

Her tongue traces my lips hungrily and I let her in, moving one hand to braid my fingers into her hair, holding her to me. I forget all about the Games, the audience who could be blushing and swooning right now just watching us. Screw them; Clove is mine. I hold her tightly and roll over to where she is under me. It breaks the kiss for a moment, but she clasps my face in her hands and pulls me down, kissing me again, but this time it's a bit more tender, if still just as passionate. I support myself on my elbows and clasp Clove's hair again, the silky threads soothing through my finger.

"I..." She breathes. "I think..."

She is the first to pull away, and for the first time, she is finally looking me in the eyes. Her breath is heavy from kissing.

I raise an eyebrow at her. Think what? I brush a lock of her hair behind her ear. Clove smiles her bright white smile and her violet eyes sparkle with more joy than I've ever seen as she speaks.

"I think I love you."

* * *

**A/N:** Man that felt good to write! Sorry I only had Cato's POV this time. I just wanted it in his. But I thoroughly enjoyed writing this chapter (mwehehehe).


	19. Gingers and rocks, I hate them both

**_Previously:_**

_C__love smiles her bright white smile and her violet eyes sparkle with more joy than I've ever seen as she speaks. _

_"I think I love you."_

_

* * *

_

**Clove's POV**

"I think I love you too," says Cato, smiling widely.

The best six words I've ever heard in my life from anyone. As I am kissing Cato, something hard lands on my back and I roll off him to see what it is.

"Ha ha!" I exclaim. "Look what we got!"

A silver parachute lays toppled over on the ground. It's fairly large. Could it be food? A weapon?

I pull it over and Cato examines the large box, smiles for a moment, and then starts laughing really hard.

"What is it?" I ask, leaning over. He shows me the front of the box. Through the dim moonlight I can see a picture of a tent on it and Cato whispers in my ear, "Privacy."

I can feel blush flow into my cheeks and I say back, "I'm sure they have some way of seeing through the material of the tent."

Cato shrugs, still smiling. I've never noticed how white his teeth are. Maybe it is because he doesn't normally smile with his teeth. I can't help but smile back. The only tent we had was burned to a crisp in the screw up booby trap so this is a nice treat. I wonder how much it cost to send us this.

"Well I'm tired anyway," I say, practically yawning on cue. "Let's break it in."

We tear open the box and find a set of simple directions. We drag it over to a dense area of brush and trees for better concealment, even though the material is camouflaged. There are a few poles to support it, but other than that it isn't insanely small, just big enough to fit two people in.

If they get in really close.

I smile at the thought of being in Cato's arms one more night, and then two, and then more and more back in District 2. Before I realize it, I'm smiling from ear to ear like an idiot. Cato laughs and asks, "What?"

"We're both going to win," I say, still grinning. "We can both go home. You'll get to see Kimi again, and I…" I pause since I haven't really thought my brother, Claudius and my father since I arrived in the Capitol. "I'll see my family…"

The thought of my bitchy stepmother sends a short fuse of annoyance through my spine, but as soon as Cato takes my hand and helps me into the tent for the night, I forget everything. Cato has laid out the bigger sleeping bag: his. It's dark, but I can just make out his outline as he zips up the flap almost all the way, letting the lightest of breezes flow in and cool my blush hot face.

"This is nice," he says, suddenly crawling to where he's over me. "Hope the Capitol doesn't have x-ray cameras _and_ night vision lenses."

In between kissing him, I say, "They made those night glasses. I'm sure… they have those for a camera."

Cato chuckles, and then lowers his head and skims his lips across my neck. My breath becomes ragged and I lean my head back. I must look like a mess though. Burned, cut, bruised, and on top of that I have a layer of sweat covering me, which make my cuts sting, but Cato doesn't seem to be paying attention. We both look equally beat up, but it just makes me feel better about my crappy appearance.

He kisses back up my neck and to my lips once more. I weave my fingers into his hair and hold his face to mine. I'm not letting go, not again. I smile against his lips again and he laughs a little.

"You just can't stop smiling can you," he whispers, moving down to the base of my neck again. I almost shiver at how low his voice gets when he speaks softly. I move my hands to his back and take fistfuls of his shirt.

"We can't give them _too_ much of a show," I warn him. Cato groans and moves to the side, pulling me close to him. He kisses my forehead and then chuckles.

"It might create a new rule," he says. "Other than no cannibalism, and now of course the both tributes form the same district thing. Haha, I can see it now. 'No adult content will be displayed throughout the Games'."

I have to keep myself from laughing loudly. Who knows? Thresh could be right outside our tent. It sends a fearful shiver down my spine.

"We should sleep," I say softly. Cato nods, from what I can see, and plants a gentle kiss on both of my eyelids, and then another on my forehead, and pulls the top of the sleeping bag over us.

* * *

**Cato's POV**

I wake up to the subtle chirping of birds outside. I almost forget we are in the Games, but then I realize we're sleeping on the ground in a camouflaged tent in the middle of an arena.

It's kind of hard to miss after a while.

Clove steadily breathes against my chest, still asleep. My arm has become a makeshift pillow for her. I can't help but lay there for just a few more minutes.

"Good morning," Clove whispers, rubbing her fingers over my chest. She opens her eyes and looks up at me with a tired smile.

"Best sleep I've gotten in a while," I say. Clove nods and says, "Me too."

Then she suddenly sits up and takes a deep breath.

"Ready to go hunting?" she says a bit slyly. She puts her jacket on and makes sure everyone of her knives are arranged just how she likes them.

"Who's our target for today?" I ask, securing the sword at my belt. Clove gets that familiar determined grin on her face and she says, "The 'Star-crossed Lovers of District 12' of course."

"We could do that," I say. "Or we could go after Thresh and get him over with."

A strange look crosses Clove's face and she abruptly shakes her head.

"Not today," she says flatly. "We-we should save him for last. For a show."

It does sound like a good idea, but why does Clove seem so agitated?

"Are you scared of Thresh?"

"N-not really, just what he can do with a rock."

I can't help but chuckle a little bit. Nonetheless, we fold our tent up, which fits in the larger pocket of my bag. There's no telling where the "Lovers" could possibly be. They might even be hogging up all the camera time for all we know.

Late into noon, Clove and I scan the woods for any signs of life. The forest is eerily quiet and there doesn't seem to be any _trace_ of any other tribute, not even Thresh, not even that red-haired girl from 5. I still don't know how she made it this far. Probably just hiding and waiting for everyone to kill each other.

"You want to stop for lunch?" asks Clove, slipping one of her knives back into her jacket. I shrug and sit back against a large tree and open our pack. As soon as I reach into my pack there is a rustle behind us. Clove's eyes meet mine but she is still looking as if she has not heard anything. I slowly move my hand to the grip of my sword on my belt and try to use my peripheral vision to see who or what is behind us. At first I don't see anything, even if it is kind of hard to tell. Then Clove's head jerks sideways and she falls over.

"Ah!" she cries, clutching her head. A smooth small rock falls to her side. I immediately stand up and help her up. She looks a bit _too_ shocked, her eyes wide, as if she is trying to see if she is still alive. Then she shakes her head and pulls out a knife.

* * *

**Clove's POV (again)**

It takes a moment to realize it was not Thresh who smashed my head in with a huge rock, but a small smooth almost pebble from who knows where. The hit scared me more than hurt me, but it did hurt. I pull out three more knives just because I'm so angry.

"So it's definitely a 'who'," I mutter quietly. Cato nods and motions for me to follow him. I step where he strategically steps, missing twigs and crunchy leaves. We slowly head in the direction where the rustle came from, hoping we will find a tribute, preferably Katniss or Lover boy. For obvious reasons I really don't want to come across Thresh.

I think I've come to develop a very high tense phobia of Thresh after seeing him bash that doe's head in.

There is another rustle and we turn to it. A rabbit hops into view. Might as well take advantage of it. I throw my smallest knife and it lands square in the rabbit's forehead, killing it instantly.

Hello, supper.

Another rustle behind us and Cato and I whirl around to see the red haired girl from District 5 rummaging through our bags. I send my largest knife into the backpack she has her hand in and she suddenly jerks it out just in time, holding one of the food packets. I throw my third knife at her head, but she's too fast. Oh my god, she's fast! All I see is a blur of red hair behind her and she's taken off through the forest.

"Follow her!" I yell, taking off into a sprint after her. I know it is stupid to leave our supplies unguarded a second time, but I'm pissed now.

We just got outsmarted by a ginger.

I can feel a lump starting to form on the side of my head and I am losing energy. The girl is too far ahead of me. She leaps over roots and ducks under branches so fast, like a fox.

"Damn it!" I scream, falling to my knees and throwing the knife I just pulled out into a nearby tree. It sticks all the way up to the handle. It should be fun getting that back out. Cato catches up to me, his face is red from running. He puts a hand on my shoulder and helps me back up.

"She took an entire food packet!" I say through my teeth. Cato holds up the rabbit I stuck and shrugs.

"Not a total loss," he says. He's obviously trying to be the better person and not lose his temper for once. I suppose we all have our moments. He is also carrying both our packs.

"It's getting late," he says, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. "Let's get back to our campsite."

I nod and follow him back to the lake where we set up our tent and watch as the sky shows lack of deaths. Lack of the ginger from 5, lack of Katniss, lack of Peeta, and lack or Thresh.

I don't know which one pisses me off the most.

* * *

**A/N:** Hey guys, sorry it's taken so long to update. I've had a bit of a writer's block and I don't want to write if it turns out like a filler or something. But I bet you guys will be happy to know I'm first going to finish this story the traditional way and then rewind and make an AU ending.


	20. Best news I've had in a long time

**Cato's POV**

"I think we should just hunt at night," says Clove. "We have the glasses and what are the odds that someone else has a pair?"

That's true. Our last two days of hunting have been unsuccessful, not including the afternoon where we were outfoxed by the girl from 5. I make an agreeing, "Mmhmm." And continue to pretend to organize my back pack while my back is turned to Clove who is washing up by the lake next a pile of boulders. It was my pack that the girl from 5 stole from, but it was not hard to see that Clove snuck some of her food into it.

"You know you don't have to turn the other way," she says. "I'm not naked, and you've seen me in those pajamas I wore at the Capitol. They're pretty much the same."

I hesitate, but I turn around. Clove is perched on a boulder, completely exposed to the bright sun, her clothes slapped against another stone surface to dry in the heat. Her undergarments are white, and part of her undershirt is burned to her naval, but thank God she has a bra underneath. It's not wrong that I am kind of turned on right now, right?

"You're probably giving the men back in the Capitol nosebleeds," I say with a smirk. Clove laughs and then splashes some water over her race and body and then throws her head back seductively.

"Eat your heart out, Finnick Odair," she says in a playful moan. I laugh even harder, holding my aching stomach. Though I do notice something.

Clove has a really nice moan. She shakes her hair until it falls completely behind her shoulders.

"Ok, Clove, no adult content, remember?" I say. Clove wrings her hair out and wipes the access water off her arms and legs, but then dips one foot into the water and kicks up a huge splash at me.

"Hey!" I yelp. It's cold. I kick off my boots and socks and wade into the water where the boulder is and grab her arm, pulling her down. She screams as she falls into the water.

"D-damn it, C-cato, these were j-just about to d-dry!" she says, her teeth chattering. She wraps her arms around herself, trying to warm back up. I laugh and pull her into an embrace, rubbing her back and arms to warm her up.

"I'm sorry," I say with a smile. I kiss her on the nose and brush a wet lock of hair behind her ear. She makes an effort to smile back with her teeth still chattering. She buries her head into my chest and I try to warm her up some more. The sun has passed the point of noon so it should be getting dark in a few hours.

"You want to rest up before we hunt?" I ask her. "I'll watch first and then wake you up when it's your turn."

Clove mumbles, "Ok-k," into my shirt and I put my hand under her chin to tilt her face up.

"You look _really_ sexy right now," I whisper, kissing her gently. She smiles and bites her lower lip as she blushes, stifling a giggle. That's unusual. Clove giggling? I must really have flattered her.

I wrap what's left of my scorched jacket around her and coax her into the tent, telling her that I'll get her clothes from the rocks. Just as I unzip the flap of the tent, the sound of trumpets causes me to jump and whirl around, face tilted towards the sky. Clove is in the middle of pulling her shirt over her head as she sticks her head out the tent opening. Claudius Templesmith appears in the sky to, no doubt, announce the Feast that occurs around this time in the Games.

"Congratulations, remaining tributes!" he booms over the arena. "It's time for the Feast! Now hold on. Some of you may already be declining my invitation. But this is no ordinary feast."

I glance at Clove, who shrugs as she gets her arms through the sleeves of her shirt while watching the sky as Claudius continues.

"Each of you needs something desperately."

I raise an eyebrow. Yea, we need food. But do we need it desperately? We're pretty well off. What could we possibly need?

"Each of you will find that something in a backpack, marked with your district number, at the Cornucopia at dawn. Think hard about refusing to show up. For some of you, this will be your last chance."

"Lover boy must be dying or something," Clove says flatly. "Seeing that we haven't seen him in the sky yet, Katniss must have found him and is trying to nurse him back to health."

"With the cut I gave him," I say, "it's got to be infected by now."

"Yea." Clove purses her lips in thought. "But what could _we_ possibly need?"

I think hard.

"We're _alright_ with food," I say, counting on my fingers. "We well off with weapons, shelter." I look down. "Our clothes could be better, but we're not suffering."

Clove nods and ducks back into the tent. She must be putting on her pants. I keep thinking.

"Maybe the thing we desperately need is to kill someone," I say. "It's a stretch, but hey. That's what you're supposed to do to win. Maybe it's just like moving target practice, only the real deal. We might not even have a backpack up there."

"Hey," says Clove. "Maybe it's something that can help us against the other tributes, like – it could be a weapon, but one that can prove useful against someone like say Thresh."

"Or Katniss," I add. "Does anyone know what she uses as a weapon?"

"You said you she took Glimmer's bow and arrows." Clove emerges from the tent, fully clothed. "But she didn't go near the archery set during training and she's probably too busy back in 12 sorting through coal deposits in school. I doubt she has any skills with a bow." She laughs. "I'm sure she took the bow because that was the only weapon she could get her hands on."

I chuckle and say, "Yea, you're right. She's got nothing on us."

"Hey Cato."

Clove approaches me and places her hands on my chest, raising one hand until she runs her fingers through my hair.

"Yea?" I say, wrapping my arms around her waist.

"When we go tomorrow," she says, "can I have Katniss? Can I kill her?"

I raise an eyebrow at her.

"Why would you ask that?"

"A little while back you said you wanted to kill her. And, well…" She hesitates. "I let her go once in that forest fire and I don't want to let that happen again." She stands on her tiptoes and places her lips on my neck. "Please? I promise if you let me have her, I'll give the audience a good show."

I close my eyes and smile, even though she can't see as she whispers against my neck. I might enjoy watching that. A bit of a catfight, but it probably won't last very long. Clove will be able to take Katniss down pretty quickly.

"Promise you'll give a good show?" I say lowly. Clove kisses up my jaw line, then on my mouth for a long time, and then whispers against my lips, "The best."

* * *

**A/N**: Wow it's been a while. The Feast is slowly approaching! Which means my favorite scene to write will be approaching too... Mwehehehe. I've noticed that I laugh a lot in my A/N's...


	21. My worst nightmare

**Clove's POV**

The cold morning air cuts through the holes in my clothes and causes my teeth to chatter. Cato wraps his warm arms around me as we camp out in the dense brush on the outskirts of the field where Claudius Templesmith instructed us to be at for the Feast. My teeth continue to chatter and he rubs my arms as quietly as he can, trying to heat my skin through my sleeves.

"You're going to give away our position," he whispers in my ear playfully. I can't help but smile, but this is no time to get soft. This could mean the difference between victory and death. No distractions.

It's very early and I still have my night vision glasses on, but as the morning progresses I find my vision starting to become fuzzy and I remove them. Cato does the same. I open my jacket a little bit to double check that my knives are all where I want them, the ones I plan to use on the left side of my jacket, easy to reach; my less important ones are on the right side of my jacket. But I never know when I might need to use them.

"So it's settled," I whisper, trying to keep my teeth still. "I go for Katniss and you can have Thresh. Whoever see's the ginger first gets to kill her. "

Cato nods and smiles. I give him a brief kiss and then scan the field once more. It's so quite. All the wild life creatures are just now starting to wake up and yawn in their own way, in chirps, chatters, and snapping twigs that continue to make me more and more paranoid of other possible tributes, mainly Thresh. I'm so thankful that Cato will take care of him for me, though I don't doubt we might miss the chance to kill him or the ginger.

But today, Katniss dies, no mistaking it. No flaws, no mess ups. It has to be a kill. The sun is just barely peaking over the horizon and through the trees when the ground begins to rumble. Cato and I exchange glances and take our positions to leap up and run when we need to.

In front of the Cornuciopia's golden horn, the ground separates and a circular table rises up from beneath the arena. There are four backpacks set neatly on a pure white table cloth, as if this were a true feast with food laughing and dancing. Far from it. I see ours. It's one of the largest ones and all black with the number 2 on it. It sits next to another large one with an 11 on it. Then a mediums-sized green one with 5, and then the smallest orange one- so small I can barely see it- with a 12. It has to be medicine.

As soon as the ground closes underneath the table, a sweep of red hair appears from the Cornucopia and sprints to the table, snatches the green back pack and darts off to our far left.

"Holy shit," says Cato. "It's the ginger. What- what do we-"

"Go after her!" I hiss, starting to shove him off. "Before she gets away. Go!"

Cato nods and goes around through the bush behind me to chase after the ginger. I know either Thresh or Katniss will be going next. Most likely Katniss. Thresh might try to take her backpack, and I for sure would take it, so she has to go next.

Just as the thought has entered my mind, I see her. She is sprinting for her life, and Lover Boy's life no doubt, towards the table. Now's my chance! I leap from the brush and dash to a good distance and then fling my first knife at her. She must have seen it coming because it would have hit her if she didn't use her bow to deflect it. Why did she bring the bow? She can't even shoot-

_Twang!_ The bowstring rings out in my distant ears and I turn at the last second before the arrow hits me straight in the chest. Instead it lodges into my upper left arm. I grit my teeth and let out an "argh!" before falling to one knee. Damn it, she _can_ shoot a bow. Where the hell did she learn to do that? I never saw her at the archery section in training.

There's no time to contemplate that though. I have to move. She's almost to the table! Just as she turns from snatching up her orange bag I hurl my second knife through the air straight at her head. She turns just enough to where it doesn't lodge into her skull, but it catches just above her right eye. I can already see the blood gush from the wound, and she is partially blinded. She reloads her bow and releases the string, but it flies five feet to my left.

Idiot.

I thrust my elbows out and slam into her. We both go down hard, but with my on top of her. I push my knees down on her arms and shoulders. She's flat on the ground; blood still flows down her face, into her eyes and mouth.

This is it. I finally get my chance. What I've been waiting for the entire Games. Might as well make a good show out of it.

"Where's your boyfriend, District Twelve?" I say tauntingly. "Still hanging on?"

Katniss pastes a snarl over her bloody lips and she snaps, "He's out there now. Hunting Cato." _Wait, really?_ "Peeta!"

Damn it, he's here? I might be able to kill him while pinnning Katniss down. I punch her square in the throat, halting her scream. I glare at her then sit up and look around. Where is he? I'm more paranoid than aver. Where, where, where is he? He can't be in a position to fight, much less walk.

After a moment, I don't see any disturbance in the trees. I almost laugh out loud, but it's all I can do to just grin down at her attempt to buy time.

"Liar," I say. "He's nearly _dead_. Cato knows where he cut him. You've probably got him strapped up in some tree while you try to keep his heart going." I can see the hurt and anger fuse in her eyes; she truly hates me right now, might as well have some fun. "What's in the pretty little backpack? That medicine for Lover Boy?" I grin slyly. "Too bad he'll never get it."

I'm having too much fun. I tear my gaze away from Katniss who is trying to hold back a frightened expression. I open my jacket wide enough so she can see all my knives. None of the ones I put on the left side really seem to do anything for this situation. Good thing I brought the lot of them. I pick one of my smallest ones, honestly my favorite. It's actually a scalpel with a light curve at the end.

Why not show some District 2 spirit?

"I promised Cato if he let me have you, I'd give the audience a show," I say, twirling the scalpel around in my fingers skillfully. She seems to panic and tries to unseat me. Her skinny little body is no match for me.

How's that for muscle, bitch?

"Forget it, District Twelve," I say, shoving my knees into her shoulders. "We're going to kill you." A little thought pops into my head that I could have fun with. "Just like we did your pathetic little ally… what was her name? The one that hopped around in the trees? Rue?" A twang of pain crosses Katniss' face. "Well, first Rue, then you, and then I think we'll let nature take care of Lover Boy. How does that sound?" She naturally doesn't answer. "Now where to start?"

I take the edge of my jacket and wipe the blood from her cut and the rest of her face as roughly as I can. I then take her chin in my hand and tilt her face side to side. Where to slice first? She suddenly tries to bite my hand, but I snatch the root of her braid and pull her head back, smashing it into the ground.

"I think," I say softly. "I think we'll start with your mouth."

She clenches her jaw as I trace the profile of her lips with the edge of the scalpel. She stares me down, anger burning in those grey irises of hers. I can't help notice how pretty her eyes are. Too bad I'll be gouging them out soon.

"Yes, I don't think you'll have much use for your lips anymore." I purse my lips and say mockingly, "What to blow Lover Boy one last kiss?"

Katniss suddenly spews a mouthful of saliva and blood in my face. My face heats up with anger. That bitch!  
"Alright then," I say, raising my voice. "Let's get started!"

I wipe the blood from my face and am just about to slice open her lip. I don't notice it before it's too late. A huge shadow behind me, and then a big meaty hand roughly grabs me and yanks me off of Katniss. Another hand wraps around my waist and the other clenches my throat. I scream as loud as I can. Suddenly my captor grabs my shirt, flips me around and I smash into the ground.

I struggle to gain breath because it has been all but knocked from my lungs. I look up and see the sun shine on the brown skinned giant that towers over me. The light reflects off his bald scalp.

Thresh.

I'm trembling now, and I recoil backward when he speaks loudly.

"What'd you do to that little girl? You kill her?" he booms. I try to crawl backwards away from him in desperation.

"No!" I squeak out. "No, it wasn't me!"

Thresh's face hardens and he says, "You said her name. I heard you. You kill her?" His eyes widen for a moment and he stomps a huge foot towards me. "You cut her up—like you were going to cut up this girl here?"

"No! No, I-" My eyes watch Thresh as he bends over and scoops up a huge rock from the dirt in one hand. My blood runs cold.

Now _I'm_ the helpless doe. I scramble back as fast as I can and scream, "Cato!" My voice breaks into a shriek. "Cato!"

* * *

**Cato's POV**

By the time I heard Clove's first scream, I had almost caught up to the ginger, but there's no way I'm keeping up the chase now. I sprint back towards the Feast. There is a louder deeper voice that can only be Thresh.

Damn it, why did I leave her there? My legs are burning as I run as fast as I can. I burst through the trees onto the field, just close enough to hear Clove shrilly cry out, "Cato! Cato!"

There she is, flat on the ground. Thresh towers over her with an enormous rock in his hand.

Oh God, oh God!

"Clove!" I yell back, reassuring her that I'm coming. I'm coming to save her.

But I'm too far away, and now I've tripped over a stray weed that weaves its way around my ankle and I smash into the ground. I watch helplessly as Thresh quickly kneels down, grabs the front of Clove's shirt, pulls her up and bashes into her temple with the rock.

"No!" I groan, furiously trying to pull the plant from the ground. Clove's head isn't bleeding. Maybe he didn't hit her that hard.

Thresh starts talking to Katniss who was on the ground this whole time. He says something to her that I can't hear. The rock is still in his hand.

Yes, do it! Kill her!

His arm lowers and he drops the rock to his side.

No! Pick it up and kill her!

It's too late. Just as I snap my ankle free from the roots, Katniss scrambles to her feet, the orange bag around her arm, and sprints in the opposite direction. Thresh picks up his bag, and then snatches up the one that belongs to Clove and me, but it doesn't even phase me.

"Clove!" I cry out. She doesn't respond. She lies lifelessly on the ground.

Oh, no, no, no!

I sprint towards Clove and am vaguely aware of Thresh disappearing into the plain of tall grass. As soon as I reach Clove, my worst fear is confirmed. Her skull is severely dented in and all that escapes her lips is a light moan of pain, her eyes gloss over. I fall to her side and gingerly pull her up into my arms, careful not to jerk her neck incase her spinal cord was damaged. At first she doesn't look at me, then her eyes weakly meet mine.

"Oh God," I moan. "Clove, no. Stay with me. You'll be fine."

Her moan does down. Her arms lay at her side. She isn't moving at all, only her eyes.

She's paralyzed.

Tears spring to my eyes.

"Come on Clove," I beg, my voice breaking. "Please don't do this! Don't leave me! Remember we were going home together!"

Her lips barely move as she tries to speak, but I push my finger down on her mouth to keep her from talking. Tears spill over my eyes now. I don't even give a damn if the Capitol sees.

"No, Clove, please." I grab her cold hand. "Just look at me. Don't die, please! Stay with me."

Her beautiful eyes glass over with a foggy purple, death seeping into them. I hold her to my chest, giving into heaves of sobs. She takes a deep struggled breath, opening her mouth a little.

"I..." Her voice is barely a weak whisper. "...love…"

Her lips quiver as the breath leaves her lungs and she goes limp, her eyes still locked ahead into mine, open, but completely dead.

"No," I breathe. "No please, stay with me."

My head dips and touches to her forehead, my tears drip on her face.

And then the canon fires.

* * *

**A/N:** Just to clarify, this was not my favorite scene to write. The next chapter will be. I almost cried while writing this.

Haha, in a morbid twisted way it's kind of funny because my other two fanfictions, the last chapters I updated, someone has died in both. And all these chapters I have the mindset and goal to make you cry. I'm just killing off characters left and right!


	22. My true enemy

**Cato's POV**

Hearing the thunder clap above me is just as painful, a reminder of Clove's canon a few minutes ago—I think. I haven't been able to tell time since the sun is concealed behind the menacing clouds overhead.

I can't stand looking at Clove's dead eyes so I close them gingerly with my middle and index fingers, and then I kiss her eyelids, but I haven't let go of her body yet, and I don't plan to. Her skin is so pale, paler than it used to be, grey with a tint of purple. It is as if I hold a rag doll in my arms. I just now notice the arrow wound in her left arm, most of the shaft broken off, but some still sticks from her skin.

Katniss must have known how to shoot after all.

"I'm sorry," I whisper into her hair, feeling another wave of pain in my chest. "I'm so sorry."

I don't want to start crying again. Clove wouldn't want me to lose whatever sponsors we had. But the audience has to understand what I've been through. Can't they just let me grieve?

I want to do something. Bury her, something. But I know the hovercraft is still waiting for me to get away from the body so they can suck it up into the metal container for cleaning and dressing so they can send her back to District 2, back to her family who must be mourning too.

I hear the buzzing of the hovercraft nearing. But why? I haven't even let go of Clove's body yet. I look up to see the vehicle above me. A hatch opens and a prong-like device drops towards me. I pull out my sword and try to swipe at it.

"Get away!" I yell. The prong drops and touches my arm and a sudden shock rips through my body and I flail on the ground. My arms unlock as the electricity wracks through my muscles and bones, and I twitch away from Clove. For a moment I can't even move and the only part of Clove I still have is her limp hand that I tightly clasp.

A moment is all the Gamemakers need.

I watch helplessly as another hatch opens from the hovercraft and three different claws drop down over Clove.

"N-no," I mumble. My tongue is numb. As soon as I get the feeling back in my legs and arms, the claws have already grabbed Clove's body, wrenched her from my grip and lifted her up into the hovercraft and she disappears from my sight. After the hovercraft leaves, hundreds of cold pricks pelt at my skin. It takes me a while to register that it's rain.

A few minutes later I can sit up without feeling like retching and I look around. Clove's favorite knife still lies on the ground next to the table that now starts to descend back into the ground. I gingerly pick up the scalpel and stare at it. Not even a drop of blood on it. She didn't even get close to killing Katniss.

Katniss. That girl is the reason Clove is dead. I'll kill her myself.

But, for now, I just feel defeated. I make my way back to the campsite, where Clove's backpack still lies inside the tent, awaiting her impossible return. I think about what Clove would have wanted me to do and empty out the contents of her bag. She has a good bit of food stored up, and a first aid kit. I sift through my supplies and try to combine hers with mine and organize it as well as possible. Then I eat a little and take two gulps of water.

Once everything is organized and I am nourished enough, I cover up the tent and start my hunt. It is a little past noon, but the sun still beats down pretty hard.

* * *

Hours of trudging through the forest with the rain still pelting down on my head is a living hell, but I can't give up. Night is falling and it will be hard to see, even with the night glasses on.

Suddenly the Capitol Anthem blares and I jump. Is it a message? What has happened?

I quickly realize all they are doing is showing today's deaths.

Clove's face appears in the sky, and even though I can barely see it through the rain, I can still make out her beautiful violet eyes, full of life. Her hair is neatly layered and falls over her shoulders. She's not smiling, but who would in that picture? The rain conceals a tear that trickles down my cheek, but it is the only one I allow. She looks so beautiful, no dent in her skull. But then she disappears and I am left in the dark.

Killed by the thing she feared most. Thresh.

I now become aware of the fact that Thresh has whatever I desperately need. I twinge of anger fills my blood, causing it to boil in my veins.

Thresh. He did this. He killed Clove, he stole the bag. He. Killed. Clove!

It is as if all the hours I just wasted are coming back to me. It's not Katniss I need to be going after. It's Thresh.

Thresh.

Thresh!

_THRESH_!

I tilt my face to the sky, letting the rain pelt me in the face. I tremble with pure boiling hatred for the bastard that killed Clove. My fists shake, clenched tightly. It almost feels as if the water pouring down my skin will sizzle and evaporate off my body.

I won't sleep; I won't rest until I find him. I place the night glasses over my eyes securely and stuff my bag under the tent to keep it from the rain. I won't need the extra weight slowing me down. The night becomes clear to me, despite the rain that continues to shower down heavier and heavier. I see right through it with my glasses.

I will answer for Clove's death. My hands already twitch for the sword at my side, aching for skin to slice, for bone to crush, to be stained with the blood of my enemy.

Raging hatred. The only thing I feel. A thirst for revenge.

Complete, pure desire for raw, blood-soaked revenge.

* * *

**A/N:**I know this might seem like a filler, but it was so much fun to write. Just establishing Cato's rage and anger (understatement). Next chapter, my favorite part... which coincidentally is never mentioned in the book.


	23. She's only waiting for me

**I think it's safe to say the rest of the story will be Cato's POV**

**WARNING:** This chapter contains** Gore _and_**** LANGUAGE. **Proceed with caution.

* * *

The storm has only gotten worse since the evening first fell. My boots are caked with layer after layer of mud, which continues to wash off after every rush of rain, pelting down on my heavy wet body. I am starting to get frustrated with my shirt that clings to my skin. It is getting hard to move around in, so I end up taking it off.

I use the damp useless piece of clothing as cushion as I sit at the roots of a tree, carving a spear out of a perfect branch I got. It's not as good as my actual spear that I lost in the forest fire saving Clove, but it will do.

I then wring out my shirt, rip apart the sleeves and use a good thin strip to tie one of my remaining knives to the end of the spear. While putting my more now more manageable shirt on, a flash of lightning lights up the arena for a split moment. A few seconds later, a loud clap of thunder rumbles and crashes in my ears.

I'm assuming this storm is for either me or Thresh.

I blink.

Or both.

Lover Boy and Katniss are probably cuddling up in a tree, rejoicing that Peeta is no longer dying or something like that. God knows where the ginger from 5 is.

Resting my head between my knees, I try to think about where Thresh might be. He's been absent for almost all of the Games. So where could he be?  
I feel like an idiot once I remember that I saw him sprint over into the huge field after he killed Clove and stole our bag.

The thought that I know exactly where he is sends a heat of energy through my veins. My second wind.

"You're mine," I whisper, standing up and sheathing my sword. The spear fits well in my grasp, and it seems easy to handle. It's not hard to jog across the slippery ground caused by the deluge, but running is a bit risky. I don't want to take the chance of slipping and breaking something.

The edge of the field opens up to me. The rain pours even harder without the cover of the trees, but I can't even tell if it is morning or not. The tall grass comes up to my thigh, which is until I trample it down beneath me.

I scan the field, my glasses sharpening every stalk every tip of grass in sight. So far I don't see anything, or anyone for that matter. And I sure as hell can't hear anything with the constant downpour and thunder in my ears.

Then there is a disturbance ahead. It looks as if a dark blue blob has risen from beneath the cover of the grass. Then as the blob shifts, I see that it is a large tarp. Thresh immerges from under the tarp and begins folding it up, his back to me.

I've got you.

I grip my spear the most comfortable, and then let it fly aimed at Thresh's back. Unfortunately, he kneels down to stuff the tarp in his bag, thus seeing the spear fly over his head. His head snaps my way and he drops his pack.

Alright, plan B. I draw my sword and charge, letting a roar escapes my lips. At first, Thresh just stands there, feet planted into the ground, and then just as I am close enough to thrust the sword into his gut, he draws out an enormous wooden club.

"Oh, shit!" I sputter, managing to slide across the slick ground just as Thresh swings the club right where my head would have been. I drag my sword across his leg and he leaps back, crying out. Once I am back on my feet, I notice the belt of black iron spikes that are bolted into the head of the club.

That must be what was in his bag from the Feast. That or he has very generous sponsors.

We stare each other down for a moment, and then I lunge forward, sword held high. Thresh is taller than me only by a few inches, but I am far more muscular, and he obviously doesn't know how to handle a weapon, apart from the experience in the Training Days. But he knows good defense.

Just as I bring my sword down, he grips the club with both hands, one on the top for balance and blocks my attack. The clash of my sword and the iron spikes create sparks despite the torrent. I push all my weight towards him, our weapons crushed together. I grit my teeth, trying not to let him push me back.

"You!" I say through my teeth. "You killed Clove!"

Thresh gives me a strange look of struggle and confusion.

"You killed Clove, you bastard!" I snarl, finally breaking the link of our weapons and kicking him in the stomach. A loud "oof" escapes Thresh's mouth as the breath leaves his lungs. He crushes the grass beneath him and the club falls from his grasp and slides across the slick ground out of his grasp.

I'm about to win.

But just as I am about to bring my sword down on his chest, he wraps his legs around my ankle and twists, causing me to tumble to the ground with him. Upon impact with the ground, my arm hits something hard, sending my nerves in a spasm. I lose grip on the sword just long enough for Thresh to kick it away from me.

As I try to sit up, Thresh punches me in the face and then pins me down to the ground, and wraps his hands around my throat. I lock eyes with him and claw at his arms as my breathing is completely cut off. Damn, he's strong.

"Yea, I killed tha' girl," he says. "You gonna join her soon!"

I refuse to give up. I'm sure my face is turning blue though. I weave one arm over and one under his arms and then lock hands. Before he has time to look confused, I twist my arms, wrenching his hands from my throat and throwing him to the side.

I have just now noticed that my glasses have been knocked off because everything looks suddenly darker and grayer. In a flash of lightning I see Thresh's raging expression as he lunges for me again, club in hand once more. I side step and elbow him in the spine, causing him to fall to the ground again. I feel around for my sword and wince as my hand slices across the blade.

Found it. I'm incredibly grateful now that I can move my arms without the wet sleeves weighing me down. Thresh is on his feet again and he brutally charges at me, the momentum of the club already gained and about to knock off my head.

But I duck and thrust my sword forward. Thresh runs into the sword and I am buried under his weight. His pained moan tells me that he is still alive. I push him over on his back and off of me. The sword only got him in the very lowest part of his stomach, but blood still leaks out profusely and he weakly tries to keep a grip on his club.

His grip isn't strong enough for me to grab it out of his hands.

"Let's see how you like having _your_ head bashed in," I sneer. I lift the club above my head and bring it down hard on the top of his head. Blood splatters across my shirt, but I still don't hear a cannon fire. The spike punctured one of his eyes, and the socket fills with blood. I can hear a weak moan over the roaring of the winds and the lightning shows me how badly I clubbed him.

As he tries to sit up, I plant my foot on his chest and force him down.

"Oh you know the audience deserves a show," I say casually. Then I take the club and drive it down onto one of his legs. Thresh cries out in agony as the bone breaks and I move to the other leg. He weakly claws at my ankles, not nearly strong enough to force me off now.

"What's that? You're still alive? Good."

I step off him and then smash down on his midsection. He cries out again and I continue to drive the club down into his torso, over and over, blood splattering my face and arms. The spikes tear at his flesh and rip it, sending it upward into the air with every upstroke.

"Think the audience has had enough?" I say. He doesn't respond, but he is weakly twitching. He's still alive. I finally decide to make the final blow and take the club high in the air.

"This is for Clove you son of a bitch!"

Blood and brain matter spray on my face as I smash the club down on his face. At the same moment, a clap of lightning shows me the massacred hunk of meat that used to be the tribute. The loudest thunder clap shakes the ground, but I still don't hear a cannon.

He has to be dead. He's not moving. I kneel down and put two fingers to his neck to check for a pulse. There is none. The thunder must have masked the cannon. I take my sword and saw off his head, just to be sure.

Have picking this mass up, Gamemakers. In fact…

I retrieve my spear and stick it into the ground. Thresh's hairless, bloody head makes for a slippery object to pick up, but I manage, and mount it at the top of the spear for all to see. Then I raise my sword towards the sky and give out a victory cry for all of Panem to hear me.

Clove would be proud of me. My memory goes back to when the Gamemakers took her body out of the arena. I vaguely remember her arm moving in an odd way as they picked her off the ground. Maybe she was waving. Maybe she's not dead! She's just waiting, maybe in a hospital room or something.

Yea, that's it. She's just waiting for me.

I chuckle in relief. She's probably watching me right now!

I laugh harder, and my laugh breaks in to an uncontrollable cackle.

"You proud of me Clove?" I yell up at the sky. "I gave the audience a good show, didn't I?"

I blow a kiss upwards. As my arm fully extends, lightning strikes I can see that it is drenched in blood. It takes a long time for the rain to wash it off, but as the first layer washes off, I can still see red. Nothing but red. The world around me turns to a reddish-violet hue.

I continue to laugh, staring fascinated at my arm. I look around at the red drenched world around me and raise my face to the blood tinted rain. The clouds bleed all over my face and arms as I raise them, closing my eyes.

I have had my revenge, but it's not like there was need for it.

Clove is only waiting for me.

* * *

**A/N:** Don't kill me for the bad language, I'm just trying to build the tension and deteriorate the sanity. Now **THIS **was my favorite chapter to write. I'm sorry, but I am obsessed with what could have happened between Cato and Thresh that everyone missed because of Katniss' POV. Hope you enjoyed it without puking or whatever, haha.


	24. I was wrong

**Warning: This one is REALLY long. I had to cram a lot into the last of the original story before moving on to the AU.**

As if someone has flipped a switch, the rain stops and I am left soaked and cold in the field clinging to Clove's and my bag from the Feast. I still haven't opened it yet. Not sure why so I decide to now.

I unzip the top and I can feel from the inside that the rain has not affected the contents at all. I pull out some tan colored fabric and drape it across my lap. From the looks of it in the early noon light, it is a suit of some sort. I run my hand over it and stretch it a bit. It expands easily.

I try to stretch it even further, but it is as strong as armor. I take it a step further and take my sword in one hand, the suit in the other, but no matter how hard I try I can't damage the mesh-like material.

It's perfect against Katniss' arrows.

The material is comfortable but strong, and by the looks of it, it will fit my form perfectly. My eye catches the inside of the bag. I reach in and the tips of my fingers graze the same material of my suit. Pulling it out, I realize why. It is exactly the same suit, only the figure is much slimmer and more curved.

Clove.

As if the suit will contain her scent I press it to my nose and muzzle my face into it. It doesn't really smell like anything. I wish I had something that smelled like her. Once I'll win I'll have to ask her for something like an old shirt. I've always loved her smell. Like – lavender and clean linen.

A sudden canon causes me to jump to my feet, sword at hand. My head whips around. They're coming!

"I'll kill them! I'll kill them!"  
The field is empty. The birds start to screech in some sort of warning note that causes my ears to buzz and ring in annoyance. As the birds grow louder, my vision tints redder and redder until it dies down and I see a hovercraft fly over me and disappear over the trees.

Oh yea, someone's dead.

About a minute later, the hovercraft returns and flies back to wherever they take the body for preparing and shipping back to the district.

Wait. Who was it that just died? Katniss? Lover Boy? The ginger? Damn it! Who was it?

Out of frustration I slam my sword into the ground.

"I want to freakin' know!" I yell. I suppose I'll just have to wait until nightfall.

* * *

Of course it was the ginger. Her redheaded face appears in the sky to my demise. It just _couldn't _have been Lover boy or Katniss, because that would be too easy. Of course, I don't have to run after her anymore; thank God because she was freakin' fast.

"Well she's taken care of, huh Clove?" I say to the fire. I bet she's still in her hospital bed, laughing at the ginger's death. She _was_ the one who cost Clove the Game, distracting me from her aid.

No time for nostalgia now. Time to hunt again. I stand up and secure my night glasses on, sheathing my sword and stretching my legs, making sure the suit I now wear. It is skin tight, but not so much that it is uncomfortable, even with the survival knife I have tucked into my boot. Try to shoot me now, Katniss.

Although the glasses originally gave everything a green tint, but now, glasses or not, everything is slightly reddened like blood. I don't mind it though. I've seen so much red in this arena to fill the blood banks back in District 2. Unfortunately there is nothing literally blood red to be seen out there since I haven't found the District 12 love birds. No one, not even an animal. The damp forest floor is bare of any foot prints that might give me a lead.

I curse the Capitol for switching on the downpour for Thresh and me. Sure it was probably more entertaining for the audience, but a little less convenient when trying to locate the other tributes.

"Thanks," I mutter sarcastically, kicking a loose rock into a dry patch of earth.

Wait, dry?

I walk over to the patch and kneel down, feeling the earth. Bone dry, and getting drier. It looks as if it is just draining into the ground. Nearby I can see the water in a pond literally disappear, soaking into the earth and cracking from dryness.

What are the Gamemakers doing now?

I suddenly realize.

The lake!

I stand up and haul tail to back to the lake to find it perfectly find, but all the water around it is completely dry. Why would the Gamemakers drain all the water out except for the lake?

Killing off the water source, and potentially the food source since everything in here thrives off water, not just the tributes.

That's it!

They're driving the Love Birds to the lake for the final battle. My lips curl over my teeth in a victorious smile and I kneel down at the edge of the lake, scooping up a handful of crystal clear water and then balling my fist, the water splashing everywhere. A chuckle overcomes me, and then a low laugh.

Oh how clever the Gamemakers are. Perhaps I haven't given them enough credit after all. But they can't do all the work. I need a strategy. When the Love Birds come here, I don't want them to see me right away. I should lay low in the trees right outside the lake. That way I could take out one of them without them noticing me, and then the _real_ final battle.

I laugh more. It's all just so easy.

"You'll get a great show, Clove!" I call out to any cameras that might be catching me. "You'll see. Can't wait to see you again!"

I blow another kiss up to the sky and stand back up, collect my belongings, and retreat back into the forest for the rest of the night.

* * *

The noon sunlight breaks through the brush and wakes me up from my dreamless sleep. I slept without the tent. Just my sleeping bag, just to be better camouflaged. A sudden rustle of dead leaves on the ground causes me to sit up straight faster than I should have. I draw my sword and slowly get to my feet. Whoever caused the rustle is leaving, swiftly as it seems.

"I have you now," I whisper, leaving everything behind but my sword and take off after the sound of feet running.

The drooping dying branches of the forest whip me in the face as I continue running, the hastened rustle just close enough for me to hear, but I cannot hear anything. But I'm too slow because the sound slowly dies down. I sheath my sword and lean on my knees, catching my breath. The forest is as silent as the grave.

Was there ever a rustle?

Was it just in my head?

Maybe it is because after another moment of silence, I hear multiple crunching of leaves and twigs, snapping under feet. It's all around me: _Snap, crunch, snap, snap crunch, crunch_.

I whip around, trying to see who is there. The crunches grow louder, closer, and soon I decide it is in my head.

Then I hear heavy panting, like a dog, and then gnashing of snouts. This is in my head. What's going on!

I clench my temples and look around; trying to regain my sanity and convince my brain there is nothing out there.

I quickly realize my brain was right.

Deep in the darkened shadows of a bush I see two large, human green eyes staring out at me. I stagger backward as what appears to be a wolf emerges from the bush, followed by its pack.

I quickly realize these are not ordinary wolves. These are mutations, created in the labs of the Capitol specifically designed for the Games.

The mutt from the bushes bares its pearly white teeth at me. Layers of bright golden fur ripple down its side and it stares me down with its bright green eyes. A silver collar with jewels inlaid into it that forms the shape of the number 1 glimmer in the noon sunlight.

Glimmer…

Glimmer!

My knees nearly give out. Her human green eyes, the golden hair, the collar.

I suddenly find myself blindly stumbling backwards.

"No," my whisper, my voice catching in my throat. The Glimmer mutt raises her head and howls to the pack of twenty more mutts behind her. I can barely pry my eyes from the horrific sight and whirl around. Running as faster than my legs can really take them, I high tail it through the forest, hoping the mutts can't make it through the denser parts of the forest.

At first I think I trip over something when I go face first into the dirt, but then when I flip onto my back to see the short haired face of another mutt looming over me, drooling excessively, I'm pretty sure I didn't trip. My sword clangs with its fangs as it dives for my head. It's amber eyes and short, spiked, platinum blond, almost white hair give me suspicions, but when I see the coral collar with the number 4, I'm sure of it.

A.J.

I kick upward and then stab at its leg, sending the mutt off me. It falls back, its front paw impaled, howling for its pack. I scramble to my feet again, not even bothering to retrieve my sword. My legs burn, as do my lungs from heavy breathing.

"Keep moving," I tell myself as I leap over a log in my path. "Move!"

The birds around me shrilly cry the song that causes my vision to redden again, but I ignore it as hard as I can. Bursting through the trees, arms thrust forwards, I see two solitary figures whirl around at my attention.

Katniss and Peeta.

As soon as she sees me, Katniss releases the arrow she has knocked into her bow. It easily bounces off my suit and falls stiffly to the side.

Although my blood pounds in my ears, I can still hear Katniss yell, "He's got some kind of armor!"

She braces herself as I approach her. Screw her, I'm running for my life! I shoulder past Peeta and continue to run, my throat starting to close up from exhaustion. In the distance, the golden horn of the golden Cornucopia practically screams at me to climb.

"Go, Katniss! Go!" Peeta yells behind me. I reach the golden horn and dig my hands onto the woven design. The hot metal surface burns my palms, but I don't stop until I reach the top, twenty feet above the ground. My arms hang over the opening of the Cornucopia and I gasp for breath. My reflection in the golden surface beneath me is as purple as an eggplant and I suddenly lean over the edge, feeling as if I'm about to wretch.

"Climb!" I hear Katniss yell, and I suddenly realize she's on the horn as well. Damn, the mutts didn't get them. I hear a yelp of a mutt and the string of Katniss' bow vibrates from a fresh shot. I try to stand up, but my torso suddenly contorts and twists in violent cramps and I double over to my knees. I can't breathe.

"C-on tho-" I cough out inane babble, trying to complete my sentence. "-clomb ot."

"What!" Katniss yells at me.

"He said, "Can they climb it?" answers Peeta, scrambling up onto the top of the horn.

Thanks, Lover Boy. I'll have to remember that when I'm throwing you to your death.

Katniss suddenly shrieks and her face twists in sheer horror. Another yelp and a thud as another mutt hits the ground, at Katniss' hand no doubt.

"Katniss?" says Peeta, gripping Katniss' arm.

"It's her!" she manages to stammer.

"Who?"

Katniss looks around rapidly. She must have figured out the 'design' of each mutt.

"What is it, Katniss?" Peeta says, shaking Katniss.

"It's them. It's all of them." Her voice breaks. "The others. Rue and Foxface and…all of the other tributes."

"What did you think they do to them?" Peeta gasps. "You don't think…those could be their real eyes?"

A moment of silence, apart from the sounds of the growling and gnashing of teeth from the mutts, and then a large, black short haired, almost buzz cut mutt leaps up over the horn and snags onto Peeta's leg. The woven straw collar that says 11.

Thresh.

Katniss manages to grab a hold of Peeta before the Thresh mutt drags him over the side.

"Kill it, Peeta! Kill it!" she yells. Peeta stabs the mutt in the torso and it howls in pain before loosening its grip. Katniss then releases an arrow into the mutt's eye, sending it limply over the side with a thud.

I've regained my breath and my footing. Now you're mine, Lover Boy. Right as Katniss turns back to aid Peeta, I get a hold of him first. The blood from his leg wounds splatters on his girlfriend's face as I pull him up, dangling him above the ground in a headlock.

Katniss' face contorts in a mix of fear and anger as she knocks another arrow on her bow which she is running out of very quickly.

I can't help but laugh, where is she going to shoot me? And on top of that-

"Shoot me and he goes down with me," I say, a smile curling on my face. Katniss knows I'm right, and she's running out of time because Peeta is slowly running out of air, uselessly clawing at my muscular arms.

Peeta suddenly dips his fingers into his leg wound, coating them in blood. What the hell is he doing?

The blood is wet and sticky against my skin as he draws an X on the back of my hand.

Shit.

I realize what he's doing one moment too late and Katniss' arrow pierces my hand.

"AAAH!" I cry, releasing Peeta from my grasp and stumbling backward. The horn beneath me is slick and slippery with Peeta's blood and my feet skid out from under me.

My stomach skyrockets to my ears and the air completely escapes my lungs as I slam back first onto the dry ground. Snarls and growls surround me and the mutts surround me before I can react.

One mutt, a small one with red fur and amber eyes bites down on my arm. All I can feel is crushing, not piercing. I fish my knife from my boot and slice at the ginger from 5 mutt's head, slicing it clean off. I take out another mutt that could only be Herman with his ashen hair and brown eyes.

Trying one last resort I limp over to the tail of the golden horn, the knife clanking on the wall, and I try to climb it once more. But just as I get my footing, another mutt grabs a hold of my legs, and with another mutt, drag me back around to the opening of the horn. I drop my knife and my fingers dig into the dry ground, cutting openings into my fingertips.

Just as I take out the small brown furred mutt that could only be Thresh's fellow tribute, Rue by breaking its neck, another mutt steps forward and the entire pack pauses for their current—pack leader?  
It stolidly steps up, pressing its paw on my chest, the razor sharp claws digging into my flesh through the suit. It leans in its layered dirty-blonde head at me and pulls its pink lips over is teeth. I am locked in its gaze.

The layers of dark blondish hair fall over its body and it angles its head so that the collar that resembles a hospital medical informational band with the number 2 shows bright white. Then it turns back to me, the wind blowing the fur from its eyes, revealing a pair of twin violet pools.

Clove.

I choke on my breath and try to move, reality coming back to me. I yank Katniss' arrow from my hand and get a grip on the shaft.

"I'm sorry, Clove," I whisper and thrust the arrow up into the mutt's stomach. Its strangled yelp of pain sends a wave of hurt through me, but I am able to throw its hulking mass aside and take on the pack that now attacks me full on. Four mutts grab my hands and feet which are exposed, other than my boots.

Pain shoots through my body and I can't help but scream. The Clove mutt limps over me and digs her claws right underneath my chin and under my armor into my throat. My screams become choked as blood flows into my esophagus. Then it lunges downward and clamps its enormous jaws down on my skull. I struggle as the mutts work their way at me. I can't see. My eyes are in shreds, bleeding out down my tattered face as I try to call out for help.

I can't tell if it has been minutes or days that have gone by, the dull pain all over my body, only protected by my body armor.

My voice is gone, but if anyone can see me, see what is left of me, try to make out one last word.

_Please._

The sound that comes from my mouth is not even a moan but a whimper, a pathetic pleading whimper.

Suddenly, what used to be complete darkness turns into a bright flash of light as I feel something sharply pierce my skull. Through the light I can see a figure approach me. The first thing I notice are deep violet eyes.

Oh, no. It's not over.

But then, Clove, clad in something that appears to be sunlight itself, descends onto my misshapen, hunk of meat form. Her head is not dinted from Thresh's rock; she is not covered in a layer of burns and grime. She is as I saw her the first time I met her. Perfect.

She holds out her creamy pale hand to the mauled mix of blood, muscle and bones that used to be my hand, but as soon as her skin touches mine, the skin grows over and I curl my fingers around hers. I can feel my face form once more, muscle returning to my limbs. The skin tight suit disappears and I am wearing sunlight as well. Clove smiles at me and pulls me up, meeting her light pink lips with mine and we suddenly ascend into the bright light above us.

It doesn't take me long to realize what is going on.

Clove was dead. She _is_ dead.

And so am I.

* * *

**A/N: ***passes out at the keyboard* I'm done! *realizes the AU* Wait, no I'm not! NOOOOOO! (jk) Well that as to be the LONGEST chapter I've ever written in this fanfiction history of mine. It might take me a while to update another chapter because of my school, but I'm going to rewind to the Feast and start up from there with the AU.


	25. AE: Run run as fast as you can

**_A/N:_ This is the begginning of the AU (Alternate Universe) Well I suppose the proper name would be an alternate ending (AE, hehe) The first few paragraphs are from Chapter 21, because it doesn't really change up until a certain point so I'll put those in italics if you guys want to skip over it. Here we go!**

* * *

**Clove's POV**

_The cold morning air cuts through the holes in my clothes and causes my teeth to chatter. Cato wraps his warm arms around me as we camp out in the dense brush on the outskirts of the field where Claudius Templesmith instructed us to be at for the Feast. My teeth continue to chatter and he rubs my arms as quietly as he can, trying to heat my skin through my sleeves._

_"You're going to give away our position," he whispers in my ear playfully. I can't help but smile, but this is no time to get soft. This could mean the difference between victory and death. No distractions._

_It's very early and I still have my night vision glasses on, but as the morning progresses I find my vision starting to become fuzzy and I remove them. Cato does the same. I open my jacket a little bit to double check that my knives are all where I want them, the ones I plan to use on the left side of my jacket, easy to reach; my less important ones are on the right side of my jacket. But I never know when I might need to use them._

_"So it's settled," I whisper, trying to keep my teeth still. "I go for Katniss and you can have Thresh. Whoever see's the ginger first gets to kill her. "_

_Cato nods and smiles. I give him a brief kiss and then scan the field once more. It's so quite. All the wild life creatures are just now starting to wake up and yawn in their own way, in chirps, chatters, and snapping twigs that continue to make me more and more paranoid of other possible tributes, mainly Thresh. I'm so thankful that Cato will take care of him for me, though I don't doubt we might miss the chance to kill him or the ginger._

_But today, Katniss dies, no mistaking it. No flaws, no mess ups. It has to be a kill. The sun is just barely peaking over the horizon and through the trees when the ground begins to rumble. Cato and I exchange glances and take our positions to leap up and run when we need to._

_In front of the Cornuciopia's golden horn, the ground separates and a circular table rises up from beneath the arena. There are four backpacks set neatly on a pure white table cloth, as if this were a true feast with food laughing and dancing. Far from it. I see ours. It's one of the largest ones and all black with the number 2 on it. It sits next to another large one with an 11 on it. Then a mediums-sized green one with 5, and then the smallest orange one- so small I can barely see it- with a 12. It has to be medicine._

_As soon as the ground closes underneath the table, a sweep of red hair appears from the Cornucopia and sprints to the table, snatches the green back pack and darts off to our far left._

"The hell!" Cato says through his teeth. "Where did she come from?"

"It doesn't matter!" I hiss, pushing him off. "Go get her!"

Cato nods, stands up and is about to take off, but then he shoots me a long glance, his face contorting with conflict. Then he shakes his head and kneels back down next to me.

"What are you doing?" I snap at him. "Go after her!"

"No," he says flatly, not even bothering to address me to my face. "I'm not leaving you alone when Thresh could be anywhere."

I think for a moment.

Maybe he's right. Maybe it would be best if-

"Wait, what's that?" he whispers, crouching down. I look to see the whip of a black braid in the wind as Katniss sprints towards the table, clutching Glimmer's bow. Cato's knuckles tighten around his spear, but I step in front of him, reminding him of his promise to leave Katniss to me. I burst from the cover of the trees and dash towards Lover Girl as fast as I can, readying a knife to send into her skull.

Unfortunately, Katniss uses the nifty little bow she has to deflect my first knife. Why the hell did she bring that along anyway? It's not like she can shoot-

The twang of the bow string rings in my ears and I see the arrow shooting towards me just in time to side step out of the way. A red stripe crosses my face as a blinding pain strikes my arm.

"Ah!" I cry, falling to my knees. The arrow has lodged deep into my left arm. I can hear Cato leap from the bushes behind me and he is instantly at my side.

"Clove!" he cries, gingerly taking my arm. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine!" I spit. "Go after Katniss!"

Cato gives me another conflicted look but then grips his spear again and stands up. Just as Katniss has reached the table and snagged the small orange bag, Cato's spear lodges into her lower back. Her blood curdling cry of pain pierces my ear drums. I relish the fact that my ears are ringing from Katniss' painful screams.

Katniss falls to her knees and scrambles underneath the table, away from Cato's reach. She's not dead, but the spear has definitely left a fatal wound.

"Come out, come out, Lover Girl!" I yell tauntingly, rising to my feet despite the screaming pain in my arm. "What's in the bag? Is that medicine for Lover Boy? Guess he'll never get it!"

Katniss' pained whimpers come from behind the white tablecloth. A pool of blood starts to flow from underneath the table.

"You're dead, District 12," I say, pursing my lips. "Just like your pathetic little ally. What was it? Rue?" I stop just behind Cato and laugh. "Looks like you've left two people to die by us careers now!"

Before I can continue any further, all of my air is suddenly cut off and I am lifted off the ground before I can scream. Huge brown arms lock my throat shut and I know it can only be Thresh. I claw at his arms and desperately try to call out to Cato who is just a few feet away. Suddenly, hot breath fills my ears in a low husky whisper.

"You kill Rue?" Thresh snarls, walking backwards. "You cut her up, just like you were going to do to that girl under the table?"

My vision starts to go fuzzy and I am feeling dizzy. I suddenly remember my knives. At one last attempt, I pull one of my more jagged knives from my jacket and stab Thresh's arm as hard as I can. His loud cry of pain finally catches Cato's attention, but that is the last thing I hear before I black out.

* * *

**Cato's POV**

I whirl around just in time to see Thresh release Clove.

"Clove!" I cry, drawing my sword and running towards her. Thresh makes a wide bank around me and as I am busy with Clove, grabs his bag and runs away, disappearing in a field of tall grass in the distance. The field is now filled with silence, other than Katniss' pained whimper underneath the table, but even that dies down as I tend to Clove. She isn't moving, and she doesn't seem to be breathing.

"Clove?" I whisper, putting my sword aside and pulling her limp body up into my arms. "Clove, wake up."

She's like a rag doll in my arms. I urgently press two fingers to her neck to feel for a pulse and suddenly a canon fires, causing me to jump. My heart drops to my stomach. I pull Clove's limp body to my chest and hold her tightly, resisting the urge to cry.

"No, Clove, please," I whisper. "We were so close! So close to going home!"

Tears fight behind my shut eyes, when they suddenly snap open as a weak murmur escapes Clove's lips. Liquid spills over my cheeks as I watch with fuzzy vision. Clove slowly opens her eyes, breathing raggedly.

"C-Cato," she says hoarsely. Her violet eyes weakly look around and blink lazily, as if she has just woken up from a pleasant dream. I pull her into my arms tightly, kissing the top of her hair and burying my face in it, taking in her sweet scent.

"But," I stutter. "You…I thought you were dead. The canon. It fired and-"

Slowly, Clove's arm weakly rises from where it lay limply at her side and she points past me. I slowly turn around to see Katniss halfway from under the table, face down in a pool of blood. The spear lies by her limp, bloody hand from where she had pulled it out.

"It was for hers," Clove whispers, coughing twice. "Guess I didn't get to finish her off myself afterall."

* * *

**Another A/N:** Sorry it's taken so long to update guys. I've been really busy with school and other projects. Videography requires a little more attention than literature. I'll try to update asap.


	26. AE: Well this really sucks

**Clove's POV**

Cato clings to my arm as we speed away from the Feast. I can hear the table retreat under the ground once more after the hovercraft retrieves Katniss' body. My throat aches from being strangled by Thresh but I manage to keep a steady, if somewhat slower pace as we race to our tent across the lake. A soon as I see that we are a safe distance from the field where Thresh ran into and the direction in which Ginger ran, I fall to my knees, gasping for air again. Cato kneels down and holds me, stroking the back of my hair.

"We did it," he whispers. "She's finally dead."

I look up and smile at him, and then my eye catches the backpack he has slung over his shoulders.

"With a bonus," I reply with a grin, nodding towards the backpack which also contains Katniss' little orange bag, but then I wince and cling to my arm. I just realized that the arrow still sticks all the way through my arm.

"Hey, easy," Cato says, gingerly lifting my arm. The shaft goes straight through my left bicep, coat and all.

"Alright, this should be fun," Cato continues. He opens my jacket and pulls out one of my knives to cut away the fabric off my arm so he can examine the wound properly. Both he and I notice the problem immediately.

My dirty coat fabric that wasn't cut off has gotten lodged into the wound from the arrow. More than likely it will be infected by night fall. My arm throbs from the pain and we can't just push or pull the arrow out. The head of the arrow will tear through my skin and the tail feathers are tipped with thin jagged metal wire. The Capitol has thought even further with this weapon because the shaft is made of some material that I can't snap in half and Cato can't cut, so I'm pretty much stuck like this.

"Well damn," I mutter, wincing from the pain. "Can't push it, pull it, or snap it in half. This is a predicament."

Cato smirks and says, "I suppose I'll let you off the hook for swearing in a situation like this." He pauses. "Back in the Capitol you shuddered at such language."

I roll my eyes.

"Let's say this arena has toughened me up since then." I lean back against a tree and take a deep breath, trying to block out the pain in my arm. "So how are we going to fix this?"

Cato sheds his belt and then ties it around my arm at the shoulder, securing it tightly.

"Keep you from bleeding to death first," he says, looping the access belt around and tucking it underneath.

"Don't suppose we could try for a sponsor, could we?" I ask, wincing as the belt pinches my skin. "We just got a nice goody in that bag." I sit up. "Speaking of which, open that up, I want to see what we got?"

Cato unzips the bag and pulls out what looks like to be clothing, but it's made from a skin-toned mesh-like material.

"Um," Cato hums, stretching the fabric and overlooking it thoroughly. "Thanks? But what's it for?"

I shrug and hold my good arm out for him to hand it to me. When I examine it myself, Cato pulls out another suit. That one is bigger; must be for him.

"I think" I start. "I think it's like armor or something."

Cato looks up and raises an eyebrow. I hold up the flesh toned suit and continue,

"I used to see some of the career trainees wear suits like this, the little ones, so they wouldn't get hurt. Bruised maybe, but never sliced or punctured." I pause. "I bet this was for Katniss' arrows."

Cato nods. The gears in his head are finally starting to turn. I can't help but smirk at him.

"What?"

"Nothing." I lean forward and kiss him. "Nothing at all."

It's only until I lean back again that my arm starts throbbing again and I curse under my breath.

"One option is just knocking out the competition in one night so we can get you back to the Capitol," says Cato, a hint of sarcasm in his tone. I don't blame him. There really isn't a way we can fix my arm by ourselves. It's a job for the Capitol surgeons.

But for now, I just want to sleep, even though it's about noon. I'm just so tired. So…tired…

* * *

**Cato's POV**

Clove seems to have fallen asleep against the tree. I might as well utilize the time I have by organizing our supplies.

"You gave me quite a scare this morning," I say, fully aware that Clove won't answer me. "We're so close to winning. Don't give up on me now."

She shifts a little bit against the tree. My eye catches the arrow in her arm and I frown. What are we going to do about that? I mean maybe we can get her out of the arena before it gets infected, but who knows how long that could take. It's nearly impossible to catch the Ginger, and Thresh just disappeared into that field. It probably wouldn't be too hard to locate him; it's taking him down that would be the challenge.

"Anything you could do to help us out, Uncle Curry?" I say up to the sky, hoping Curry, who is probably not even paying attention to us at this moment. I get nothing. As usual.

"Well Clove," I say to the sleeping ice queen. "Looks like we're…or I'll have to go on a killing spree."

Although Lover Boy's already taken care of. He'll be dead within the next few days, if not sooner.

I lean in and lightly kiss Clove's lips, happy that we can both go back to District 2 together, then I carefully pick her up and lay her down in the tent, zip of the entrance and camouflage it as best as I can. She has enough food to last her if she wakes up, but hopefully she won't look for me.

"Please don't leave this spot, Clove," I say to her sleeping figure through the tent. "Please."

I secure my sword around my belt and lightly supply my own backpack if my return is delayed. My first target, the Ginger.

* * *

**A/N:** I know I know! It's been forever and this was a short chapter. Put down your torches and pitchforks! This chapter was really difficult to write, but it'll pick up once Cato goes into killing machine mode.


	27. AE: Well aren't we lucky

**Cato's POV**

Night has fallen swiftly on my hunt for the ginger from District 5. I really hope Clove hasn't woken up yet. If she has, hopefully she'll know better than to come looking for me. My night glasses really help. I can't imagine hunting without them. Even though everything is in a green tint, the entire world just seems so much sharper.

I try to think back to when the Games started. All the days have mashed together into one sun-setting/rising blur of chaos. It's like a dream. You don't quite remember how you got here, or how you're going to get out, but you know you're here and somehow you have to make it out. Except I know that we got here via hovercrafts…though they did black out once we got close to the arena sight.

I'm just waiting to wake up.

I think about Clove and how happy I am to be able to go back with her. I'll get to meet her father, and she'll get to hold Kimi for real and not just for a show and… we can finally be happy without worrying. And to think about how famous we will be for being the first _couple_ to make it out of the arena together.

But first, before we can get out, I have to _take_ out the ginger and Thresh.

Most of the night has gone by and as I start to give up and head back in the direction I think camp is located, a canon nearly makes me jump out of my skin.

"Holy-" I gasp, clutching my chest, my heart nearly ready to leap out of my rib cage. The roar of a hovercraft echoes in the distance and they must have collected the body by now. I can't help but wonder who it is. Either Lover Boy was killed somehow, or maybe Ginger ran into Thresh. Nonetheless, I should probably head back to camp anyway.

The sun is peaking over the horizon by the time I see the shimmer of the lake ahead. But the camp is on the other side so just a little more walking and I'll be back, empty handed.

Then a high pitched shriek pierces the air and I look around rapidly. In the distance I see a rustle in the bushes around the lake, but I quickly realize that it's not bushes but the camouflaged tent. It rolls around in chaos, then as if sliced with a knife, a gaping hole appears in the side and two figures tumble out, wrestling around in the mud. I make a dash around the lake like a mad man, the battle becoming clearer and clearer as I draw nearer. A flurry of bright red hair flails around and I know it's Ginger.

"Clove!" I call out, feeling helpless as can be. Clove is injured, it's not like she can fight properly with that arrow stuck in her arm.

"Cato!" she calls back, clear struggle in her voice. I draw my sword and as I reach about ten yards away, the ginger whirls around in a fury of long red hair, tied high up in a ponytail, and pulls Clove over her like a shield, one of her own knives against her throat. Damnit, I should have thrown my spear when I had the chance.

"Move and she dies!" the girl's voice is low and raspy, as if she hasn't spoken in over a week.

Well that would make sense. Who would she have to talk to? Clove struggles against the ginger's surprisingly strong grip. The girl is so emaciated; it's anyone's guess if she's ever had a decent meal in her life.

"It's two to one," I say, tightening the grip on my sword. "You think you can get out of this alive?"

"If you want her alive I think I can," she says hoarsely. Wispy bangs fall board straight over her eyes and she shakes them from her face. Clove claws weakly at the ginger's bony arm around her neck in a choke hold. The girl is so skinny; Clove covers her up perfectly like a shield. Clove looks at me with some sort of resolution in her face. I try to make out what may be going through her mind, but then I see it play out in reality.

Clove releases her grip on the ginger's arm, clasps her right hand over the feathered end of the arrow, and then shoves her arm, rather the arrow, back through Ginger's ribcage. Both she and Clove scream in pain and then connected by the arrow; they both collapse onto the ground. Ginger twitches incoherently for a moment and then coughs up blood onto the back of Clove's head. A canon fires and I rush to Clove's side.

"Oh my God, Clove, are you ok? I'm so sorry. I'm so so sorry!"

I pull the arrow out of Ginger's chest, trying not to hurt Clove in the process, but the clotted over punctures in Clove's arm have broken open once more after healing around the arrow. Blood pours down her arm and red veins stretch up under her skin.

It _is _blood poisoning.

"Clove? Clove are you ok?" I say again. Clove sits up, groaning from the pain. Her eyes are shut tightly in a pained expression, involuntary tears squeezing through.

"Yea, shit ow, give me a second," she mumbles; she doubles over, clutching her arm. "Owwww. God that hurts."

"I'm so sorry, Clove, she had you and-"

"No it's fine, it's just the arrow. I managed to rip it from the scab and it's not even out. God it's never coming out." She glances up, beads of sweat over her flushed face. "I don't know if I'm going to make it, babe."

I pull my lips in to a tight line and I place my hand over her forehead. A fever has broke out on her skin and my heart plummets to my stomach.

"God," I whisper. "You're burning up."

"It's called an infection," says Clove, giving a light, weak smile. "And you call yourself a resident of District 2."

As witty as the comment is, I can't find myself to smile at this situation. She could die within a few days and we may never see Thresh. The Gamemakers have to do something to draw us together.

"Well don't talk like that," I say. "We're both getting out of here." I try to think of something that will help her. "Do you know about any plants that may help the infection?"

Clove shrugs.

"That was probably Lover Boy's specialty," she says. "Remember, we never went to those stations during training."

"And it doesn't seem like we'll be getting a sponsor anytime soon." I look up to the sky, hoping to see a parachute just drift down the answer to all of our problems. I pull Clove against my chest, holding her tight, just wishing this would all go away, wishing Clove would no longer be in pain, but wishing won't get me anywhere.

We sit calmly, eating occasionally and resting. Before we know it, night falls and the Capitol Anthem blares across the arena. I'll finally get to know whose canon that was early in the morning. And it's not too much to guess who it will be

First the ginger from 5 shows up, fiery hair all straight and neat, amber eyes in a steely gaze towards the camera. Then, as I predicted, Peeta's face appears in the sky, blue eyes bright with life.

"Well, the traitor finally got what he deserved," says Clove, her voice soft and weak. I look down at her. Her face is pale in the moonlight, paler than before.

What am I going to do?

"I'm hungry," says Clove, digging through her backpack. She pulls out the orange bag with the number 12 on it that would have gone with Katniss at the Feast.

"We never did see what Lover girl would have gotten," I say, leaning over and taking the bag from Clove. "Maybe it's something actually useful."

I pull the drawstring that seals it shut and pull out a tiny cardboard box. Both Clove's and my eyes go wide with disbelief. It's one hypodermic needle, fresh and ready for use.

"Good God," says Clove. "What a miracle."

I pull the needle out of its casing to examine it. It's a spring loaded syringe with the medicine already loaded.

"This may be what cures you," I say. "It'll hurt."

Clove gives a light laugh.

"Like I haven't dealt with pain before."

I chuckle and then take Clove's arm in my hand. She gets a tight squeeze on my forearm and then looks away as I shove the needle into her arm.

* * *

**A/N:** hehehe...sorry for the delay guys...I've been really busy working on a ton of other stuff

Thanks to therealJohannaMason for reminding me of my commitment to this story.

It won't be long before the Games are over!


	28. AE: The Capitol labs are so twisted

**Cato's POV**

Clove has fallen asleep again. The infection around her arm appears to be subsiding, but for how long, I wonder.

I peek out the flap of the tent to try and _estimate_ the time. Dawn breaks over the treetops, causing ribbons of light to leak through the leaves of the trees. So little sunlight under so many leaves.

Clove stirs next to me, her good arm draped over me. It was nearly impossible to get her into a comfortable position with the arrow still in her arm. I think the Gamemakers over thought the production of the weapons for this arena.

"Where are you Thresh?" I say to no one in particular. Fatigue is eating its way at me and I decide to lie back in the tent, despite the light draft through the hole that the girl from 5 ripped while attacking Clove.

Actually, the breeze is kind of nice. The sun is usually brutally hot in this arena, yet the nights are peacefully cool, like the ones back in District 2 which I heard was in a place that used to be part of a place formerly known as Canada. Apparently cheap medication was an ongoing joke there back in the day.

How's that for irony.

"Mmm."

Clove stirs beside me, curling up tighter against my chest to fill in the space there was when I was sitting up. I peek over to see she still hasn't woken up. It's strange. Most people look younger when they sleep. But she just looks more refined, more beautiful.

As I'm about to doze off, a strange noise catches my ear and I almost shoot back up into a sitting position if it weren't for Clove. The noise is followed by a dozen rustles in the bushes. I gently shake Clove to wake her up and place my hand over her mouth as she wakes so she won't speak. I press a finger to my lips to indicate silence and she sleepily nods, rubbing her eyes.

"What?" she mouths silently. I nod backwards and then point to my rear. She sits up quietly and cocks her head.

Then we hear it again. A low rumble, almost like a vibration. We both exchange confused looks. We hear the noise again and it's as if we realize it at the same time.

It's not a rumble. It's a growl.

Clove stiffens up and slowly reaches for her jacket of knives and I place my hand on the hilt of my sword that is still attached at my hip. I make slow motions, silently explaining to Clove our escape plan. The rip on the side of the tent is closer to whatever the hell is out there, but it's also the easiest way out. I count down from three on my fingers and then push her out of the tent and onto her feet.

And that's when the growls turn into snarls and howls.

* * *

**Clove's POV**

I stumble to my feet and the growls grow heavier and are joined wish gnashing teeth and howls. Cato jumps out after me and the breaking sunlight reveals our predators.

A pack of wolf-like muttations, beasts from the labs of the Capitol, bear down on us. I swear under my breath and the haze of sleep has broken. One of the muttations leaps forward right into Cato's sword and he casts the ashen-blond haired dog to the ground, pale hazel eyes open and dead. It appears to be the only one to have attacked so rashly because the rest stare at us growling and threatening. My eyes are still glued to the dead mutt on the ground.

Its eyes. What is wrong with its eyes? They don't look normal at all. Its limp head leans back to reveal a belt squeezed tight around its throat. A closer look reveals a circuit board-like collar sparking with flecks of light here and there and as the light travels through the canals of wires, the number 3 is illuminated for just a split second and I nearly scream.

Herman.

"Oh my god," I sputter, staggering backward. "C-Cato. Cato!"

"What?" he says through his teeth.

"It's Herman!" I squeak, pointing down at the mutt. "It's all of them!"

I scan the rest of the pack for familiar features. AJ's spiky platinum blond hair attached to a mutt with a blue coral textured collar with the number 4 on it. A small chocolate colored wolf with same color eyes with a leather collar sporting the number 8. The girl we killed at the campfire. But I can tell there are mutts missing. There are only about twelve in this group. Where are the rest?

Before I have the chance to ask where they are. A burst of leaves and shrubbery catches my ear and I whirl around to see Thresh underneath a tiny brown haired mutt with cornrolls and a woven straw collar. Thresh quickly snaps the small mutt's neck and casts it aside, scrambling to his feet with a thick spiked club in his hand which he deals a deadly blow to the head of another mutt with curly blond hair and piercing blue eyes. His jet black collar reflects the number 12 for a split second before it falls to the ground.

Peeta.

"Can we fight them all off?" I ask. The mutts make their moves, slowly staking towards us, herding us towards Thresh. And he knows it too because the smaller pack with him is pushing him towards us.

"Who do we fight?" I ask, my fingers closing around the largest knife in my jacket. Cato shrugs. He whips around, clearly trying to think of a way out. I look to Thresh who seems preoccupied with the mutts at the moment. A long black-haired mutt with bright grey eyes lunges at him, teeth bared and dripping saliva.

Katniss?

It doesn't matter because Thresh bashes its skull in before it can sink its fangs into anything. He takes out another mutt before I turn my attention back to our own pack.

"I think the lesser of two evils is preoccupied at the moment," I say. "I say we focus on-"

I'm cut off as a fiery red mutt leaps at me, foxy ears bent back in aggression. It tackles me to the ground, but fortunately enough for me it falls on my knife. Black blood gushes from its torso all over me, sticking to me like glue. I nearly vomit from the putrid smell, but manage to push what must be the Ginger's mutt off me.

"Cato, look out!" I scream as a tall golden haired mutt who can only be Marvel attacks Cato from the side. Cato whirls around and sticks his sword all the way up its mouth and into its skull. A sickening gargle/whimper escapes and a black deluge spills over the mutt's canines. Cato draws out the darkened blade to take on two smaller muttations and I leap to my feet, eager to assist him. As he hacks through one, I fling my knife into the eye of the other one who was about to attack him from behind.

"Thanks," Cato mumbles, struggling to keep the jaws of another mutt from crushing his skull. I leap into action and run over, pulling the knife from the mutt's eye and driving it into the spine of the one over Cato. I help him to his feet and we stare down the remaining pack. Cato's fingers are bleeding from the fangs of the mutt and my shoulders ache from the Ginger-muttation's claws.

"How the hell can we win," says Cato, clearly out of breath. I ignore the tickling sensation of blood running down my arm and take a deep breath, trying to compose myself. I turn to see Thresh finishing off another muttation with a mighty swing of his club. The other two in the pack tuck their tails between their legs and retreat, running away into a sudden opening that has appeared in the ground as if called back by the Gamemakers.

They have us together now. They don't need shepherds to group us together. Now, all we have to do is take down Thresh before he takes us down.

"You!" Thresh booms and I jump at the sound of his voice. Cato grips his sword and stands in front of me. Thresh is still bigger than Cato, but he is a tad skinnier, which puts Cato at an advantage when it comes to strength.

For what seems like an eternity, we stare each other down, wondering who might make the first move. I slowly reach into my jacket and pull out three throwing knives. Maybe if I move quickly enough, I can nail one into his skull before he has the change to attack.

I take the chance and fling one towards him. A loud ring resounds in the air as the knife bounces off the metal spiked belt that wraps around the club in Thresh's grasp. War has been declared. He charges forward, yelling at the top of his lungs. Both Cato and I roll out of the way of his charging mass and I fling another one at his back. The knife sticks into his lower side, a pained roar causing the ground to tremble. He turns and flings the club towards me. Before I can scramble back, I feel the butt of the club smash me in the stomach and I fall back into oblivion. Everything has gone black for a moment and my breath has all but left my lungs.

As my vision returns, Cato is wrestling Thresh on the ground, Cato's sword cast aside as if deflected. They roll around, exchanging blows and trying to get their hands around the other's neck. I draw my third knife, but can't take the shot. They're moving around so much. I might hit Cato.

"Clove, take the shot!" Cato says, struggling to kick Thresh off him. My heart is pounding in my ears. My blood is hot and my breath is heavy. I don't know what to do. I don't want to hit Cato.

"Take it!" he screams, suddenly caught off by Thresh's meaty hands around his throat. In that moment of stillness, I take a chance and take the shot, sending the knife spinning towards them. It strikes Thresh in the arm, who screams and nearly falls. But instead, he delivers a hard punch to Cato's head, knocking him out cold, and pulls out the knife from his arm. One still sticks out of his side. He must have forgotten that one.

I scramble to my feet, fumbling for another knife. My supply is growing dangerously low and I have less and less to choose from. I pick out a long dagger and hold it in the offense. Thresh towers over me and I find myself staggering back. There's no way I can take him on. Instead of using my knife, he picks up his club from the ground and picks up the pace.

"Cato!" I scream, realizing my dagger won't do a thing against his brute strength. "Cato, help!"

He is slowly coming to, but too slowly. Thresh bears down on me and as I try to stab him in the chest, he grabs my wrist and twists it. I hear a sickening pop and scream as the pain quickly registers. The next thing I feel is a sharp pain in my torso and I fall back off the spikes of Thresh's club.

The blood loss has already made my head woozy. Everything is fusing into one blur. I can barely prop myself up when I see Thresh raising his club over his head for the kill.

* * *

**A/N**: It's surprisingly difficult to make an alternate ending, especially with characters with very little development in the original story. Thanks for being patient guys.


	29. AE: I'd think victory would be happier

**Clove's POV**

Everything has been a blur because—I think—I've lost a lot of blood. As my vision clears on and off, I can see the cloudless sky above me dim into the colors of dusk. Heated reds that cool into purple-azures. In my ears, the muffled cries of what seems like pain barely register in my brain. My head lulls weakly to the side and I would jump out of surprise if I weren't so weak. A brown stone rolls in a trail of blood a few feet away from me, but it doesn't take me long to realize it is not a stone.

It's Thresh's head. A cannon confirms what my blurry vision could barely make out.

I try to prop myself up again to see Cato kneel down and prop me up, pulling me away from the dismembered body. We must have to be a certain distance away from it for the hovercraft to remove the body from the arena. By the lake, I watch, leaning against Cato's chest as the hovercraft comes and two claws emerge from the doors below, one snatches up Thresh's head, the other, the body, still clutching the club until it falls out of the grasp and lands in the dirt and blood

"We did it, Clove," Cato whispers weakly into my ear. "We won. They're going to take us home now."

I crane my neck to smile at him

"You're right," I say. "We get to go home."

We share a smile of relief and utter bliss and then after a while, we notice something strange. No one has come to get us. In the past Games, it doesn't take a long time for the Victor's hovercraft to retrieve the winner. In this case winners. Our smiles turn into confused frowns and we look up, listening for the engine of the hovercraft, but there is none. Just the low chirp of some bird in the distance.

"Where are they?" I ask. "Shouldn't they be-"

A loud boom of a speaker causes both of us to jump and then Claudius Templesmith's voice erupts the silence of the arena.

"Greetings to the final contestants of the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games."

I feel a bit of relief. There they are. Now get us out of here!

"The earlier revision has been revoked."

Cato and I catch each other's eyes in sheer horror and listen for more.

"Closer examination of the rule book has disclosed that only one winner may be allowed. Good luck and may the odds be ever in your favor!"

A burst of static leaves an annoying ring in my ears and then the bird I heard earlier resumes its lonely song. Cato's jaw is dropped to his chest in disbelief. I'm sure I look similar.

"Wh-what?" he breathes. "They—what?"

Confused and angry tears start to fill my eyes, but I'm almost too weak to cry.

"They can't do this!" I choke, gripping Cato's arm. "Can they?"

Cato's expression contorts to pure rage and he screams at the sky, "This is utter bull shit! You can't do this to us! We've come so far!" He pauses. "And since when have the Games _had_ a rule book!"

That's true. The only rules really are survive and there's that one _guideline_ about not eating eachother.I nearly shiver.

Cato buries his face in my hair and groans out more profanities. The tears spill over my grime covered cheeks and I hug his neck, wanting the pain in my stomach to go away and the rest of this confusion to just stop.

Wait, my stomach. I pull away from Cato and stare down at my torso where Thresh's club got me. Whatever had clotted up has been ripped open again and blood trickles out down my belly and waist.

"C-Cato," I mumble, holding his hand. "I think I'm dying."

"No!" he protests. "You're not dying. You're getting out of here."

"_You're_?" I say. "We, Cato. _We're_ getting out of here."

Cato takes a struggled breath and moves his arm that had been tucked under his other arm pit the whole time. Then I see it. A massive gash tearing down his shoulder and side; I can see his ribs and the blood has been pooling behind us the whole time. Thresh's club.

"No," I say. "Cato, we promised we'd both get out of here together. Neither of us are dying."

Cato gives a weak apologetic smile and then slumps over from fatigue, supported only by my shoulder. I shake him but he's out. I place two fingers against his throat, feeling for a pulse. A faint thrum drums against my fingertips, but only faint. My hand slides down to his shirt and grips it tightly. More tears spill over.

"No," I say. "You can't leave me. We've gone so far; you can't just die on me now!"

I think hard with all the clouds that fog my brain right now. If he dies, I'll win and all this will have been for nothing to me. If I die, it will be the same for him. We can't both win…but can we both lose?

No! We can't. The Games needs a winner. We're both dying and that can't be good if we both go at relatively the same time. But Cato is defiantly going faster than me, the warm blood seeping beneath me.

Instinctively, my hand weakly fumbles through my jacket to retrieve my last knife. It's not edged like most of the knives I got at the Cornucopia. It's a sleek, smooth, silver double edged dagger with the Capitol seal molded into the end of the handle. I grip it in my right hand and try to sit up as best as I can, resituating Cato so his head lays in my lap. I gently wipe the sweat soaked hair from his face and then look up at the sky to initiate my plan. I raise the knife for all the cameras to see and then make exaggerated movements so everyone knows what I'm about to do. I bring down the knife onto my left wrist and then dig the tip right below my palm, grit my teeth and then swiftly drag the blade down until I've made a long neat slash right up to my elbow. Blood gushes out and the familiar copper scent fills my nostrils, awakening me for a short second. I give it a pause, waiting to see if the Gamemakers will make a move. A burst of static comes on again and Templesmith is speaking.

"Wait! Stop! You're our victor!"

Liar. Ther hasn't been a cannon.  
I ignore him and move onto the other wrist with my left hand. This cut is a lot more painful and less neat since I use my right hand more, but the cut is efficient and I am bleeding profusely from both arms. I hold Cato's hand and wait for the onset of death to creep into my eyes.

"Someone do something!" I can hear murmurs of other voices behind the microphone echoing through the forest. They must be at complete chaos because of what I did that they forgot to turn off the mircophone.

"Someone get-" Claudius stops for a moment, and then clears his throat. I barely hear the next words because the world is starting to darken.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to present the victors of the Seventy-forth Hunger Games, Clover Ewood and Cato Halberd! I give you-erm- the tributes of District Two!"

The last thing I hear is the voice of a Gamemaker ordering someone to "get them out of there, now."

* * *

**Cato's POV**

Beep, beep, beep.

The familiar sound of EKG monitors fill my ears and I figure I'm either dead of back in District 2.

When a nurse with bright orange hair comes in I realize I was wrong about both.

I'm in the Capitol.

The Capitol! Not the arena! Clove! Did she get out?

My eyes fly open wide with sudden awareness. I try to sit up but there are restraints on my wrists and ankles.

"Oh, I am so sorry," says the nurse. "We must have forgotten to remove those."

She presses a button and the straps disappear into the hospital bed. The air smells sharply of disinfectant and other fluids, like the ones flowing from tubes into my bloodstream. The nurse pushes another button and an Avox brings in a tray of food, placing it on my lap. I grab the Avox and pull him close.

"Where is Clove?" I demand. "Is she alright? Did they get her out of the arena?"

The Avox's eyes widen with fear and he rapidly nods. The nurse comes over and separates us and explains what happened.

"She slit her wrists?" I say, jaw dropped. The nurse continues to say as soon as I eat, I might get to see her. As soon as the Avox adjusts my bed into a sitting position, I scarf down the serving of chicken broth and water, but then feel it coming back up and I lean over to the side. An opening in the floor appears and I vomit right into it.

That was convenient.

The nurse cautions me to take it easy on eating because my stomach has shrunk in the arena. I growl and lean back, noticing there is another restraint around my waist.

"Can I see her now?" I ask.

"I said might," the nurse replies. "That was to get you to eat."

I want to punch her square in the face, but before I can wriggle out of the strap, the nurse adds some new liquid into my IV and I'm out before I can curse her out.

The next time I wake up, Uncle Curry is sitting with another one of the past District 2 Victors, Enobaria. What the hell is she doing here? She must notice my confusion because she smiles, her sharp golden embedded teeth gleaming in the fluorescents above us.

"Good morning my little killer," she says in a deep sensual voice. Damn, I can see why she was popular. I narrow my eyes at her and then turn to Curry.

"What is she doing here?" I ask.

"To congratulate you," Enobaria answers. "I've already seen Clove. She's in much better shape than before. Those nasty scars on her arms are gone."

Curry smiles proudly and leans forward, patting my shoulder which doesn't hurt anymore.

"You did great boy," he says. "I'm so proud of you."

I nod, but continue, "Where is Clove? I want to see her."

"You'll get to see her at the recap of the Games," says Enobaria. "I overheard Caesar Flickerman saying how they wanted your reunion on live television. Something about it being romantic." She shrugs. "But I wouldn't know so I didn't question it."

I lean back again. How much longer must we be kept apart?

I keep staring at Curry who seems extremely bothered about something, and I wonder where Prica is. He and Emobaria exchange a few looks through the silence, but none of them are smiles or casual jokes.

Something is wrong.

* * *

**A/N**: Hey guys, so since my AU ending has them winning, how do you think the next one would take place? Would it be like Catching Fire? Mockingjay? Tell me, what's your opinion? What would you predict?


	30. AE: We're in big trouble

**Clove's POV**

I have my official "reunion" with my mentors and prep team on camera outside of my medical room. I wear a clean pressed uniform that all the tributes wore in the arena, but this one is free of rips, burns, bloodstains and more. I look just like I did on the first day, except a lot skinnier. I do not really want to wear it right now, but I guess it's for the crowd so I go along with it.

Slowly, ever so hesitantly, I open the door that leads into a hallway and I follow the familiar voices. There standing at the end of a turn are Prica, Curry, Orvo Dazzle (who is unmanly emotional), and my stylist couple, Carnel and Flaga. I exercise restraint, remembering I'll be on camera and walk calmly over to my welcome party. Prica is the first to pull me into a surprisingly strong hug for such a small girl. I have a feeling that we may become friends once we go back to District 2. After all, she's only nineteen, won the games at seventeen. Curry smirks with his chiseled face full of stubble and pats my shoulder, which causes me to subconsciously rub my pearly smooth wrists, free of my suicidal scars.

"Great job, princess," he teases. He sounds just like Cato. Orvo bursts into a fresh round of tears and hugs me.

"Oh Clover!" he cries. "You were absolutely fabulous."

Flaga pulls Orvo off me and smiles sweetly before giving me hug.

"Our little angel," she says, her Capitol accent fading away for a moment. Carnel, for once not dressed in purple but—pink, gives me a handshake. I don't think he entirely likes me anymore for having natural violet eyes, but I don't care. I have an entire other group of people happy to see me alive.

A few more celebratory words are exchanged and Flaga pulls me along with the rest of the prep teams, whose names I never bothered to remember get me ready for the final ceremony of watching the three-hour recap of the Games.

"I was so excited when I heard our little love birds were going to win!" said Flaga, holding up her sketchbook. Nearly all the pages were gone. "I could barely think of what to put you guys in! Something to coordinate with life and death when you both are alive! I wanted to do something that included all the tokens of the tributes."

Surely she can see the horror on my face. Their tokens? As in the items they brought from their homes? The only thing they had closest to a home?

"But the Gamemakers wouldn't allow it."

My shoulders relax and I let out a breath. I can't imagine what the Victory Tour would be like, the families of those I may or may not have killed, knowing I would have worn a family heirloom or a birthday present. Do these Capitol citizens realize what they are suggesting?

"We went back to our original color scheme, though and I am pretty happy with our results," Flaga continues. She makes me close my eyes until I feel the satin fabric slip over my body. I'm still uncomfortable with how the doctors surgically modified my body. Aside from removing scars and fresh wounds, they filled me with some substance that filled out the areas where my bones protruded, like my ribs, chest and buttocks. All my curves have been artificially restored and it feels weird. I think there's a reason our body changes itself so gradually.

When I open my eyes, I can't help but stand in front of the enormous mirror, absolutely breathless. The dress begins pure white at the top with transparent straps that form a sparkling web across my shoulders, then gently cascades to my feet where the color fades into a deep crimson. My shoes are red high heels with diamonds along the straps. My hair, re-trimmed and dyed from its old light brown to a platinum blonde that fades into white tips. Dainty feathers adorn my hair here and they're as if an angel has flown over me and its feathers have fallen like snow onto my head.

"Woa," I breathe, reaching out to touch the mirror, wondering if it's all a heavenly illusion. A cherubic dream.

"You look stunning, Clove," says Carnel. "Your beautiful eyes just pop with the makeup."

It's true. With all the light makeup, my dark eyes stand out even more. But something is suddenly wrong. I get a flash of memory from the Games, when I saw myself in the reflective surface of the lake. My face was darkened by dirt and caked on blood, a tracker jacker sting still swollen under my chin. There was a wild look in my eyes that now I can see in contrast to now. The eyes of a cold-blooded killer. The eyes that took lives of …

I count on my fingers…

The boy from District 9 in the bloodbath.

The girl from 7 in the bloodbath.

The boy from 10, the one with the weird foot. I'm surprised he lasted as long as he did.

And then the Ginger from 5.

Four. I've killed four people. That's four families that will never see their children, brother, sister, girlfriend, boyfriend, fill in the blank- ever again. All they will be getting is their body in a cheap wooden box to mourn over.

I suddenly feel like ripping the gown off and running back to the arena to take back all the death I caused. What hurts even more is that over two dozen Victors from District 2 have done the same thing I have done, if not more. So many lives lost…

* * *

**Cato's POV**

Curry straightens my black tie and claps me on the shoulders.

"You make me proud, nephew," he says. But they're something in his eyes that tells me something is wrong. The same look I saw in him when I was still bedridden, but no one will tell me anything. All I receive are congratulations and wishes about my future with Clove. They all seem to be sugar coated facades over something deeper than what I've been led on to believe. I'll probably find out soon.

I take one last look at myself in the mirror. For once, the costume doesn't show off my arms, even though they've been surgically restored to their original bulk. They still feel numb, but no one would be able to tell, the black sleeves fold over my arms like silk and as I hold them to my sides, fade into a deep crimson down to the edges of my pants with dark mahogany boots. The collar of my suit jacket folds over my shoulders like bat wings, similar to my Opening Ceremonies costume. I'm excited to see what Clove will look like.

I blink.

I'm excited to see Clove, period.

About an hour later, I am ushered beneath the stage where I will be reunited with Clove and the rest of the Capitol. I can just see everyone in District 2 gathering in front of their televisions to witness history. Curry and Prica have managed to bring home both tributes from the Games, and it wasn't even the Star-crossed Lovers of District 12 either.

It was us.

There's a wooden wall that smells fresh of sawdust. It was probably made recently to separate Clove and I. I want to knock on the wall and see if she is really there, but I probably shouldn't, and even if I wanted to, Curry comes up to greet my before he takes his place with Prica to be introduced.

"This is it," he says, but he is clearly bothered. If no one else can tell, I definitely can.

"You alright, Uncle?" I ask. He nods and shakes his head,

"Yea, just still can't get over how lucky you are." He scoffs. "Got to have your cake and eat it too, huh Lover boy."

"Oh God, please don't call me that," I say, immediately thinking of Peeta. "Cato will do just fine."

"Well you guys have a big name now among Panem anyway," he replies. "The Unknown Lovers of District 2."

"Unknown?" I question. Curry nods.

"Yep. No one saw it coming. They were too busy watching District 12 that until you rescued Clove from the forest fire, no one even realized you two had any positive feelings for each other."

I nod. It doesn't surprise me, but Curry gives me a light smirk and grabs my hand in a firm shake. The hard creases of a folded piece of paper dig into my skin and I ball my hand into a fist before it drops from my hand for any cameras around to see. Curry keeps his smile, but also seems to relax a bit as he give me a light solute and leaves to join Prica. I hold the piece of paper hard in my hand, wondering what he wanted to tell me without the Capitol knowing. But I can't risk opening it now. I'll wait until I'm back in my room, if I even have privacy there. But for the time being, I stuff the paper in my pocket and pat down my clothing to cover it up.

I hear the roar of the crowd above me and Caesar Flickerman addressing the audience in a banter of jokes and then he introduces our prep team. Ursula, Flaga, Carnel and the rest of the team take their seats and then a significantly greater amount of applause is released for Prica and Curry.

This is it. The machines below me start to rumble my platform and then I shoot up into the blinding spotlights. Before me just a few yards away another platform holds Clove. I'm frozen in my steps as I see her. The most beautiful creature I have ever seen in my entire existence.

She's an angel.

Although I am stunned to silence and stillness, Clove's bright smile lights up my heart and she leaps into my arms, causing me to stumble back. I wrap my arms around her tightly and bury my face in her lightly scented hair. The happiness I feel right now is incomparable to any feeling in the world. The crowd is painfully loud and I can feel Clove either laugh or cry beneath my tight hold on her. I pull away slightly just to lean back in to kiss her.

It starts gently, then as the crowd's cries grow, so does the kiss. I hold her face in my hands and she wraps her arms around my torso. Caesar comes over to usher us away from the platforms, but I ignore him, pulling Clove back into a tight hug.

"Now, now you two," he says. "There will be plenty of time for that in a minute, if you would please follow me."

I settle my forehead against Clove's and then for a moment, I don't follow him, but then with a stroke of pure glee, I sweep Clove up into my arms like a bride and carry her over to the ornate love seat that replaced the chair for a single victor. The audience goes nuts at my motion and Clove can't help but laugh and wraps her arms around my neck to steady herself. I sit down into the plushy seat and keep her draped across my lap. She doesn't seem to mind.

We settle into our seats and the lights go out. The dozens of screens around us give everyone a different angle of the recap of the Games. It's strange because instead of a typical story about struggle to victory or the king of the hill coming out on top in a fury of excitement, it's a romance. A sudden thought occurs to me.

Everyone, even the camera men are focused on watching the recap. Maybe with the light of the television, I can read the message. I slowly take out the piece of paper from my pocket. Clove notices my disturbance and watches me askance. I lay the white sheet of paper against her dress where it sort of blends in with the color and lack of light. Through the flashing colors of the television screen, I read the message and my stomach drops to my knees.

_Clove's stunt in the arena has caused an uproar in the Districts and the Capitol._

_The Gamemakers are furious so watch out for them_

_Just remember, you two are madly in love and incapable of thinking otherwise._

_Curry and Prica_

* * *

**A/N: **Whew! It's been a while. From how the AU is coming along, it's almost as if I'll be obligated to make a sequel...oh boy..._  
_


	31. AE: We're safe but not secure

**Clove's POV**

A year has passed since the Games. The Quarter Quell for the 75th Hunger Games consisted of tributes being pulled from the existing pool of victors. Cato and I immediately knew that this was to take a stab at us for showing up the Capitol, but it's not like they could have gotten us back into the arena. Brutus and Prica volunteered to go in faster than anyone was reaped, which "coincidentally" turned out to be both Cato and me. Everyone was talking about it, and kind of laughed at the Capitol for their attempt to get back at us.

For the Quarter Quell, the only district they had to fish a regular tribute from children was District 12 since they only had one victor, Haymitch Abernathy, who was barely sober enough to get past the bloodbath. He didn't last much longer after that, and neither did the twelve year old who was reaped.

The winner was from District 7. The last living female victor from her district, Johanna Mason.

"Why do you think Johanna won instead of someone like Brutus or Gloss?" I ask, letting the wind blow through my hair. It's gotten darker since last year. Almost symbolistic, having gone into the Games as practically a princess, and then coming out a scarred warrior, woman, lover.

"The a huge fraction of the arena," Cato replies after a long moment of silence, "it targeted the emotional ties of the tributes. Even Brutus could barely hang on after the Jabberjays in that niche of the arena. I think they mimicked his wife's voice."

I nod, but then look up.

"But that didn't answer my question," I say. "Why do you think Johanna won compared to the more experienced ones?"

Cato shrugs and runs his thumb across the petals of the bouquet of flowers in my arms.

"She seemed like very much like an isolationist," he says. "There was no one she allied with, not even Finnick. When she went into the Jabberjays' territory, she barely paid attention to the random screams, as if they meant nothing to her." He pauses. "I don't think anyone else in her family is alive, or friends for that matter."

I nod and look down at the lush grass beneath my feet.

"Perhaps it's better that way," I say, placing down the flowers before the headstone. "To not have anyone you care about."

The silence is almost painful.

"I'm so sorry Clove."

* * *

**Cato's POV**

Clove kneels before the couple of gravestones before her. The joint grave hold her mother and father's names, although the fresh flowers all around her father's name is just a painful reminder, as is the grave with her brother's name, "Claud Ewood."

It was a traffic accident. A truck conveniently empty of anything of high significance slammed into the mayor's vehicle, carrying both him, his son, and a couple of Clove's closest friends to what was supposed to be a private party congratulating the District 2 victors.

No one in our District believes for one second that it was an accident. We had heard of the misfortunes of victors, even more so the victors who in some way shape or form defied the Capitol's wishes. Finnick Odair refused to go to the Capitol once for an "escort" and _bam_, Annie Cresta was reaped the very next year.

"Clove?" I look down at her. She sits back on her heels, gripping the grass beneath her. I squat down next to her and hold her, the only thing I've been able to do since the "accident".

* * *

"Is this what our life is going to be from now on, Cato?" she asks, her voice breaking. "Just meeting new people and waiting for them to die because of what I did in the arena?"

I don't have the words to answer. I just hold her until she falls silent, and a quiet cry overtakes her.

_Time passes_

As we grow, as we come of age, we marry and move into one mansion in Victor's Village, we even have a child. In District 2, there is no worry of our son being placed into the Hunger Games with all the willing volunteers. He grows up without grandparents, and with only one living cousin, Kimi, who we win custody over after my father dies of alcohol poisoning.

Our life is comfortable, free of the oppression the Capitol has on District 2. Every month, Clove visits all the graves of those killed in the accident to put fresh flowers at the headstones. As I watch take her hand, lie with her in bed, even kiss her or make love, I know she isn't the same as she was when the Games began. She's no longer the ice queen who gained my competition. She seems to hold guilt over her stunt in the arena and the affect it had over her family's fate.

We are frequently called to the Capitol. We're a crowd favorite, us, Kimi and our son Jarl. We've been receiving more attention than normal now that Clove is expecting another one, another boy by the doctor's prognosis. President Snow can't get enough of us, but we know he hates us, and he can't wait to make our lives miserable. I never let Jarl out of my sight. I have him train with the pool of potential careers because I know, if there's something Snow wants done, it will be done.

And the Games continue, year after year, but my family will always be safe.

Safe and forever wary.

The End

* * *

**A/N:** It was pretty difficult thinking of a way to officially end this, and I didn't want a very happy ending because that would be illogical under the circumstances. Thanks to everyone who supported me through this fanfiction. I had a freaking great time writing this!


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